


Earth One

by MetalStick_er



Series: Earth One and O.B.A. [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Character Development, Comedy, Cybertron, Drama, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Interplanetary Travel, Lost light inspiration, Occasional fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Gay Relationships, Science Experiments, Torture, cute stuff happens sometimes, on Earth, yup i went there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-08-28 12:39:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16723584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetalStick_er/pseuds/MetalStick_er
Summary: “Hey Prowl, good to see ya’, Optimus told me to-Hey, is that the no good for scrap bot who cheated at poker for a few chugs of energon? Why I oughta’...” Warpath boomed as he pushed Prowl out of the way and showed himself into to room, eyes locked with Hot Rod, currently trying to leave the room.This is the first moment the entire team shared together, complete with shouts of encouragement from Smokescreen and not as much encouragement from Seaspray, even if unspoken. Unheard, rather. Little did this group know that they would do wonders for the entirety of the Autobots, and create history as they don’t know it yet. This, was the beginning of everything, the start of something brand new.This, was Earth One.Prowl along with the Earth One crew are on a mission to colonize Earth, and discover it's treasures. This may seem like an easy task, but some Decepticreeps found their way into it. Join Earth One and the Decepticon unit O.B.A. as they battle against each other to claim Earth as their own.This will include characters from the G1 cartoon, and loosely follow that canon. I've also taken some inspiration from the Lost Light comics. Please give it a shot and enjoy!Working on Chapter 10





	1. A Fateful Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is quite somber compared to the rest of the them, so just keep in mind it won't be like this all the time! Leave comments as you please, any criticism is welcome! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a request from Optimus Prime, Prowl must find a members for an Earth excavation team. In a twist of events, this member finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This book is a work in progress, so if you see any grammatical errors, I apologize in advance. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

The war has been coming to stand stills every corner they turn, and wins are becoming bittersweet. All Cybertronians know that the end of this war will be followed hastily by the fall of Cybertron, depressingly following through with battle plans and tactics. Prime sighs in the cold air and closes his optics. 

“Prowl, this may go without saying but,” Optimus looks up at Prowl, staring with gloomy eyes right back at him. 

“It appears that this feud will end bitterly. I want to send an excavation team to a far away planet in hopes of finding a new place to call home. Do you follow?”

Prowl nods solemnly, understanding perfectly.

“I can arrange for something to be done, Optimus. However, I will need assistance.”

“Do as you must Prowl. I trust you can bring us something to live for.” 

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of metal clashing and lasers ripping through the air mystifying in the distance as they ponder for the future. Prowl rises from his seat and exits the tent, leaving Prime on his own. Just before exiting, Prowl motions to Prime.

“It will be done, sir.”

And with that, Optimus grabbed his axe and also excited to the outside.

* * *

In vehicle mode, Prowl speeds through the soft snow, rocks occasionally flying out from under his tires. He makes his journey to the refuge in hopes of recruiting a fresh team for planet exploration. He’ll have to make this a six to seven Autobot team, and choose them carefully.

The ship he was approaching was Ship 139, often neglected and forgotten about unintentionally by the Autobots. In all honesty, energon was becoming scarce, harder and harder to find. The amounts that they would find would often go straight to the Autobots currently fighting in the war. Unfortunately this, in turn, means that there was not enough to go around. Some units have starved to death in the past, information only the top staff was aware of. Very few have met this fate, but it is still the reality this war has brought upon. If he, the defense specialist Optimus Prime openly praises for his victories and technical genius, visited this location, they would be happy to see him. They’d be ecstatic. Theoretically.

The large ship is in sight, only clouded by the mist and fastly falling snow on this cold night. No word on how Autobots are faring in the battle with the Decepticons, only letting his mind wander further into distress. He feels the pressure building in his exterior, unable to fathom the thought of potentially losing this war. Despite this, he has to stay strong in front of the other Autobots.

He exits his alt mode, and struts to the door, taking in a deep breath. He prepares for the absolute worst but hopes for the best. Inputting the 4-digit pin, the door glows softly and creaks open, a cold blast knocking him off guard. As he regains composure, he looks around, finding a horde of Autobots shivering around small bonfires spread around the area. Skinny bodies fill the room tightly, their bodies looking nutrient deprived and rusted after years of waiting. Their heads whip in anticipation to see who opened the door, faces twisting in disgust immediately.

“...Prowl…”

“Look it's Prowl…” 

“It's him.”

Tiny voices grew to a strange whisper that echoed in the ship. Clearly they all recognize him, but they seemed to sneer at the thought of him. They hunched their backs and seemingly hissed at each other. This was like nothing he's ever seen before. The smell of old crude oil stained the walls and permanently stunk the entire ship, absolutely disgusting. Energon bled into the floor paneling, unable to scratch off. These are horrible living conditions.

Prowl steps forward and clasps his hands together, hoping to gain their attention.

“Fellow soldiers,” he starts, looking around apprehensively, worried about what the outcome of this altercation will be. This is not at all what he expected. Some of these poor souls were missing optics and arms, limping around the place. This was truly a depressing sight to behold.

He clears his throat and continues, walking forward in the process. He offers a sympathetic look, hoping to gain their trust as a result.

“Optimus Prime, our leader, needs your help-”

“Yeah? And where's our help, huh? Can’t explain that to us, can ya’?” Cries a static plagued vocalizer, seemingly the leader of this refuge. Only confirming his suspicions, the entire fleet roars in agreement, raising their fists in the air and yelling enthusiastically. It’s only now that he realizes…

All of their Autobot symbols have been replaced by scratches and buffing, some with red x’s harshly marked against it. Have these “Autobots” been planning a mutiny? 

Suddenly realizing the danger in the situation, Prowl steps back and tries to reach for the door handle, keeping his eyes on these rouge bots, but his hand never meets the metal. The bots in the front pull out hidden knives and guns and rush forward with an intent to kill, the sounds of their pedes hitting the cold metal floor and battle cries echoing in the old ship. Prowl turns swiftly, only to find the door is within sight, but far nonetheless. He runs to it, stumbling on his way to safety. Pellets whistle as they travel centimeters away from him, causing him to gasp and almost lose balance. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He feels the vibrations on his pedes from the floor, indicating that the bots are inching closer to him at an alarming rate. He tries to run faster, almost tripping on the slippery metal. Their screams get louder as they rush towards him, closer and closer until-

He shuts the door, hearing them bang and shout against the force. He had made a grave mistake. He looks back at the large building, and finally reads the words he had ignored initially.

“ AUTOBOT PRISON FACILITY: SHIP # 139 “

Letting out an audible sigh, he cringed at himself. He was going to fire someone over this, for sure. He leaned against the cold exterior crossing his arms over his chest plate. He closed his optics and attempted to recover from his spark beating at a mile a second. He sighed once again.

“Surprised you survived that. Y’know they’ve been planning that for months?”

He swiftly pulled out his gun and faced it in the direction of the voice.

“Who are you? State your means of business.” He countered unwavering, his voice emitting a demanding tone.

The mysterious bot rose his servos in the air, offering Prowl a sly smirk before finally replying.

“You really don't remember me?” He remarked, a light chuckle bubbling in his vocalizer. His blue and red frame tickling Prowl’s memories, just barely.

“My feelings are hurt.” He leaned against the wall lazily, his posture that of an egoistic bot.

“I’m the bot who took the blame, took the fall, all for your stupid little reputation. Remember that, Prowl?” The frame questioned, giving Prowl and exaggerated expression.

H-he knows my name? Who is this…

Prowl dug deep in his memory files, keeping his gun in a tight grip. The frame in front of him waited patiently, too patiently. Then, he finally found it, deep in his memory archive. The painful lie. The first bot on the growing list of bots that hate him.

The bot before him smiled to himself, reading Prowl’s expression perfectly.

“Yeah, I thought so. Not sure what it was going on in your mind that day. First day jitters? Accidental overlook? Laziness?” he emphasised, hoping to get a reaction from the other bot, which, to his pleasure, worked in his favor.

Prowl tensed as he remember his first assignment as the new defense strategist, his first time working directly under Optimus Prime himself. He had just got promoted, and Autobots gushed and gossiped about it at the time, seemingly 24/7.

“A fresh recruit? Already that high in the ranks?”

“Ugh, I hate that lump of metal.”

“You gotta’ give it to em’, he deserves this.”

His reputation was already bad enough, there was no fixing that. But he didn’t care. He works for Optimus Prime solely, not those other lowlifes. He could care less as to what they thought about him. And, he loved that look of jealousy he received almost daily as he marched confidently the halls of the facility, optics glaring green with envy. But that only fueled his arrogance, and clouded his thought process heavily that mission.

“Prowl, I know you are just getting adjusted, but I just received some insight as to where the next Decepticons weapons drop will be headed. Can you can get a team to interject the exchange?” Optimus Prime requested as he escorted Prowl to his new office. A small window allowed his optics to see the other Autobots staring curiously through the corridor. Cockyness fillled his chest, no one else has Optimus Prime spilling confidential data to them.

“Of course, i’ll get right on it.” Prowl replied, giving Optimus an encouraging nod.

“Great to see such an enthusiastic bot. I’ll send you the list of who needs to be out there. I will be looking forward to working with you Prowl. You’ve worked hard for this position.”

“Likewise,Prime.” Prowl’s optics followed Optimus Prime’s figure leave the room, closing the door behind him. Prowl sunk in his chair, basking in the glory of a new and improved room he’d received, along with the dozens of ranks he skipped in order to be this high up.

A few hours went by as he patiently awaited for something to happen, when suddenly, a beep on his monitor alarmed him, and he quickly checked it out. It was a ringing sound, and he clicked the blinking button.

*kssck-*

“This is the Northern unit, on foot awaiting coordinates, over.”

*kssck*

Hmm... audio... Prowl thought. This must’ve been the group sent out to interfere with the Decepticons. He pressed the blinking button again, this time, responding.

“This is Defence Strategist Prowl, over.”

Prowl looked up the location of the Decepticon base, sifting through the multiple tabs of information. This was all very confusing, actually. He squinted, reading tiny bits of information before deeming that useless and moving on to the next.

*kssck-*

“Um, hello? My unit needs to know where we need to go. We have approximately 20 minutes left before our location will become visible to the enemy. Over.”

*kssck*

Prowl pressed the button and began to speak.

“Where is your current location? Over.” Whatever Decepticon base they were nearest was to be the right one.

*kssck-*

“Our location is currently 35 miles far from base, to the north. I was told we have to travel an additional 200 miles in order to reach the correct location, however. Over.”

*kssck*

Prowl pressed the button eagerly, confidence glossed all over his voice.

“35 miles north, got it.”

He typed up the information and simply scrolled up, finding a Decepticon base immediately.

“Go ahead and head just 135 yards south, and approach with caution. The facility is filled with dozens of Decepticon scouts.”

And, with that, he was done. He settled in his chair and sighed contently. But little did he know that his happiness would soon be filled with heavy amounts of dread.

A few hours later, while Prowl was on a short break, he took a cube and poured energon into it. Premium, only top staff got their servos on this stuff. As soon as he was going to take a drink, he saw Optimus Prime approaching him, another Autobot closely following him.

“Prowl? Follow me to the meeting room, now, if possible.” He spoke rather urgently, coming and going quickly. The Autobot beside him gave him a long glare, ‘accidentally’ bumping into him as they walked by, Optimus Prime only barely not noticing.

Prowl, confused, disappointingly put his energon down and followed behind the two of them into the meeting room.

As Prowl entered, Optimus asked him to close the door behind him, to which he did. This is getting odd...who is this other bot?

“Prowl, I was informed that the wrong information was leaked to the North unit. Do you know what happened?” Optimus questioned, waiting patiently for Prowl’s response.

“No, what happened?” Prowl replied, curiosity filtered in his vocalizer. Despite this, a deep terror settled in his spark. What did he do? What did he mess up? What happened to the North unit? What the scrap was this bot doing here?

“You killed them. All fourteen of them. My fleet. My crew. You gave them the wrong coordinates.” The unidentified bot spoke, dark and unnerving, staring deep into Prowl’s spark.

“I killed no one.” Prowl countered quickly. There was no way his position was going down in flames this fast, no way. He was going to have to place the blame on someone. Right now. But who?

“You. You’re the bot I was speaking to, right? I gave the coordinates, sure. But did you follow them correctly?” Prowl had recognized the other bot’s voice from the transmitter from earlier. He had him pinned. This bot, a nobody, questioned the authority of the defence specialist? No way was he going to get out of here innocent, whoever he is. Prowl couldn't risk his job ending so quickly, all his hard work being thrown away. He had to do this.

“Well... this is a conundrum… Smokescreen, did you follow the coordinates correctly? Assuming the blame on a trusted Autobot is no way to treat this situation. If this was your fleet, you, as the commander, are to be held responsible for your actions. Do you understand?” Optimus Prime warned, offering Smokescreen a sympathetic glance, to which Smokescreen simply overlooked.

You'll pay for this, you privileged piece of scrap. Prowl... Smokescreen thought to himself. There was no way out of this situation, even if he tried to talk his way out. He just had to take it, whatever was to happen to him.

“Yes Optimus, I understand.” Smokescreen replied meekly, already placing his servos behind his back and walking slowly forward. Optimus pulled out his hand cuffs and locked them in place.

Prowl watched as Smokescreen glared at him, death reaping through. He suddenly stopped walking and stood still, eyes locked with Prowl's.

“I understand how much of a seething lier you are.”

Prowl’s entire body shook with rage as he tried his best to conceal the anger building up in his frame. A seething lier?!

“How dare you-”

Prowl took a step forward, just about ready to engage before being abruptly stopped by Optimus’ voice.

“Okay, that's enough. Smokescreen, continue out the door. Prowl, control yourself. I expected more from the both of you.”

Optimus pulled on Smokescreens’ restraints and they walked out the door, leaving Prowl in the room, alone. His spark was still pumping hard, his vents rustling. Damn, that was close... Smokescreen, huh? Oh well…

Prowl straightened up, and exited the room briskly, returning back to his office.

His vents shuttered as he was pulled away from the memory by Smokescreen’s voice.

“So you do remember? Heh, pretty eventful huh?” Smokescreen looked down, a sad grin on his face fading slowly as he recalled his friends being brutally murdered that day. All because of the bot that stood before him.

“Smokescreen, I-I never forgot. Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Prowl stumbled, trying to negotiate a deal with the other.

“I won’t believe that for a second. That means nothing to me. But that’s not what I’m here for.” Smokescreen clasped his servos together and rubbed them eagerly. He looked up and offered Prowl a sneaky grin, rendering Prowl speechless. Sometimes Smokescreen really had the charm of a Decepticon.

“Prowl, the gun. It’s cute and all, but put it down already. I’m not going to do anything but make a simple request.” He finally spoke, giving Prowl an annoyed look.

Prowl realized that he still had his gun out, and returned it to it’s holster, relaxing his tense shoulders. Prowl gave the impression that he was calm, but Smokescreen knew better than to think that. Beneath the hard exterior he lead on was a guilt tripped bot who knew what was coming.

“You need some recruitments, right? Word is you’re traveling to Earth. I need to get out of this Primus forsaken place. This may go without saying but,” Smokescreen looked up at Prowl with an ear to ear grin, already knowing the answer to his question.

“I think I’m the perfect candidate. Whadda’ say?”

Prowl was furiated. He had allowed himself to be played like a damn piano, letting Smokescreen fiddle with the keys.

Speechless, Prowl can barely muster anything in his vocalizer. He finally clears his voice, and starts.

“Of course, old friend. That can be arranged.”

Great. Now he had someone who can throw him under in an instant. This is merely a bump in the road, however. He won't allow this to hinder him too much.

“Let's head out then. I need to recruit a few more bots.” Prowl mentions, as he walks away from the ship into the dirt road, covered lightly in snow.

“Sure, I'll be right behind you.” Smokescreen chimed, seemingly a double meaning to the phrase or just a simple comment. With this bot, Prowl never seemed to understand his true motives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for giving my book a shot, and there is much more drama to come! I will be editing some of my chapters due to grammatical errors I have found, because I want this to be as enjoyable as possible. An error can really pull you out of the emersion, so I deeply apologize for that. Regardless, thank you for taking the time to read my book, and I hope you come to enjoy it!


	2. Recruitment - Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl finds four more recruitments for the Earth team.

It’s been a few days since the recruitment of Smokescreen, and sharing this temporary living quarters hasn't been all bad. They’ve certainly gotten along fine despite the dispute earlier, and this turnout has left Prowl seemingly at ease. Prowl really has to work hard to keep up this mutual friendship between the both of them, or else things could go ugly. And the thought of that left him on his toes on the inside.

Prowl had to confirm with Optimus Prime to allow Smokescreen out of the prison facility. Some negotiations took place and a bit of convincing, but soon enough Smokescreen was out of that hell hole. Sure, Optimus was a bit concerned as to why Prowl chose him, but figured he had a good enough logic that he didn’t have to question it too much.

* * *

“Smokescreen, I'm heading out already to find some more recruitments. There anything you need?” Prowl asked, just about to walk out the door.

“Oh, you’re leaving? Can I accompany you?” Smokescreen asked humbly, trying to ease up Prowl a bit. He gave him a pretty harsh scare before all this, and he just wanted to put that behind them. For now, at least.

“Of course. Optimus had to discuss something with us anyway. I’ll lead the way.” Prowl was half hoping to have some alone time, and half hoping to get away from Smokescreen. He was just... too much. He felt the pressure of the world on him, worrying that with one wrong word he could mess up everything. But he couldn’t chance having him on his bad side.

Smokescreen, pleased, rose and stretched his circuitry. It had been a long while since he last saw familiar faces, almost fifteen years cooped up in a prison facility. Finally getting to walk around and greet other bots was almost...exciting. His happiness seemed to grow a little more as the days went by.

* * *

Prowl and Smokescreen walked through the refuge with their chins up, knowing that all optics were on them. They made quite the duo, the bot only second to Optimus with the bot who had dirt on everyone. Some Autobots passing by even audibly gasped, seeing Smokescreen for the first time in a long while, to which he simply ignored. He was definitely used to all this attention, having received it daily at the prison facility. And he had to admit, he loved it.

As they were rounding the corner, they spotted Optimus speaking to bot at in the breakroom. When he noticed the two of them approaching, he dismissed the bot and turned to face them.

“Prowl, thank you for coming as soon as possible. I have some concerns to discuss with you at the moment. When you reach the planet with your crew, we will not be able to send the necessary resources to you and the others. I advise you to find an Autobot who you can rely on to be able to find what you need in order to function. Maybe a scavenger of some sort.” He expressed, awaiting Prowl’s response.

“Right, I’ll have to get on that. Though I will say, I’m at a loss. I don’t know any bots who really specialize on that.” Prowl pondered, giving himself time to really think about this. Do bots really want to travel to a random planet just to gather resources for them? He had to admit, that didn’t sound very thrilling. 

He looked at Smokescreen in question, who equally looked dumbfounded. The expression on his face changed, however, into a mischievous smirk. Turns out, he noticed that someone had been tuning in on their conversation the entire time. Someone who was too shy to speak up.

“Who would like to explore the ocean anyway?” Smokescreen said aloud, turning his head in despair. Prowl offered him a confused look, to which Smokescreen simply put a finger up in patience until they both heard a little noise behind them. They turned to it, finding a charming little bot with a cube of energon in his hand, looking down bashfully. His kibble gave off what his alt mode was instantly, a marine hovercraft of some sort.

“Uh, hi. I find the ocean pretty interesting, actually. If you need help with naval navigation, maybe you can consider me?” He chimed, holding his energon close to his chest. Surprised to have found someone so quickly, Prowl extended his servo to the bot urgently.

“Hello, I am Prowl and this is Smokescreen. We are on a mission exploring a planet far from here. We just so happen to need-” He began encouragingly, only to be cut of by the energetic bot who has yet to introduce himself. 

“I’ll be a perfect fit, I promise! I love the ocean! If you allow me to join you, I won’t disappoint you, despite what my reputation might say.” He said, his vocalizer filled with hope. Prowl didn't see why he was so desperate, he was the perfect fit for their team. Smokescreen, however, made his doubtfulness quite visually and audibly, obvious. 

Just as soon Prowl was going to speak, Smokescreen pulled him aside harshly, pulling Prowl by his servo and keeping his optics on the marine bot in front of him. Prowl gave him a startled look, why was he acting like this?

“That’s Seaspray, Prowl. Do you even know what he does?” He said, urgent concern glossed in his vocalizer. Prowl was even more confused than before. What could be so bad about Seaspray?

“I have no idea.” he said quickly. What is it, what is it, what is it?!

“Nothing. He’s literally does nothing. This bot has done nothing to contribute other than cheerleading for other bots. Are you sure you want that on the team?” He said, tilting his head at Seaspray. Seaspray flinched at his hard tone of voice. 

Are you serious? That was what so important? Of course I want Seaspray on the team! Prowl thought to himself. He was actually getting worried for a second there. He gave Smokescreen an impatient look, to which Smokescreen countered with a scoff.

“Tch, I’m just 'sayin.” He pouted and looked the other way. Seaspray looked around nervously, becoming anxious as he tuned in on their conversation taking place only a few feet away from him.

Prowl figured the only way to get Smokescreen to relax was to try to ‘question’ Seaspray. He needed to know how he could contribute to the team regardless.

“So, Seaspray,” Prowl started, as he and Smokescreen crept back to him, making Seaspray apprehensively straighten up and placed his energon cube down.

“Smokescreen and I aren’t entirely convinced.” He said as he looked back at Smokescreen, who looked back and shook his head disapprovingly. Seaspray looked nervously at the two of them.

“I’ll answer any questions you have for me. Please give me a chance.” He said as he clasped his servos together hopefully. Smokescreen crossed his arms and glanced over at Prowl, raising an eyebrow in question. Prowl closed his optics and shrugged meekly in agreement.

“What exactly can you offer us?” Smokescreen asked, looking back at Seaspray. He beamed instantly, knowing in his spark that he could contribute greatly. This was hard to put into words, however.

“Well! Um, I don’t know the science behind it, but, um, the ocean holds some... useful... resources... like energon and such... ” Seaspray started, bringing his servo to his helm and scratching it nervously. 

“Okaaay... That’s pretty... helpful I suppose.” Prowl offered, glancing back at Smokescreen to see what he thought about it. His expression was quite hesitant thought, about ready to blow Seaspray off.

“You don't even know the science to back up your claims? Are you even certain about the energon part?” He questioned quickly, looking at Seaspray critically.

Seaspray fiddled with his servos, suddenly finding that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to speak to these bots. 

“Well, Earth has... um… ”

“Earth has a very interesting combination of elements, unique to it’s marine environments, that make it perfect for fostering and creating energon in large quantities in it’s vast seas and oceans. Isn’t that right, Seaspray?” A strange bot spoke aloud, allowing himself into the conversation that he soon grew very interested in.

The bot was quite a sight to behold. He was the first Autobot Prowl had ever seen that had a pair of jet wings. In addition to this, he also spoke with an overwhelming amount of confidence and charm. Man, he could gravitate a crowd with this look. 

Prowl looked at this strange bot with hidden curiosity, whereas Smokescreen gave him a harsh glare.

“Who exactly has the audacity to interrupt our conversation?” Smokescreen questioned, turning his attention away from Seaspray, who seemed relieved by the entire situation.

“I go by the name Jetfire-” He began, only to be interrupted by Smokescreen intruding his introduction.

“Jetfire is it? Okay Jetfire, humor me this... How exactly is this energon ‘fostered?’” He questioned, certain that this would stump him. Expectantly, Jetfire lit up, clearing his throat in anticipation. 

“That’s actually quite the question, Smokescreen. The seaweed on Earth, that breeds in the ocean, has a wonderful life cycle that can be easily manipulated. If you were to allow Seaspray and I to accompany you on this journey, then I can conduct the appropriate research needed to create energon and Seaspray can explore and harvest said energon. We will prove to you how valuable our assets can be if you allow us to.” Jetfire responded informatively, smirking to himself the entire time. He knew he was convincing Prowl and Smokescreen, and just essentially guaranteed his spot on this team, along with Seaspray.

Seaspray was taken aback by the entire situation, but was grateful anyways. He looked at the bot who saved his aft, Jetfire not noticing the stare. He was too busy basking in the glory of just having impressed the glorious duo in front of him. 

Prowl, stunned by the mear absurdity and sheer randomness of the altercation, simply nodded. It seemed that that was all he could muster at the moment. Smokescreen was pleased that this was all coming together so beautifully. Prowl was able to regain composure and finally spoke.

“That sounds... perfect. Um, do you two mind following me back to our hab suite?”

* * *

Everything seemed to be working out splendidly. Prowl got permission from Optimus to allow Seaspray and Jetfire onto the team, and they got a bigger temporary hub suite. They just needed two or three more Autobots and off they go into space. Now the challenge was figuring out what else they need in order to carry out a mission as important as this.

Seaspray and Jetfire were sitting together, Jetfire holding an electronic book pointing out several symbols and explaining their significance as Seaspray listened intently. Jetfire was elaborating on the idea of genetically modifying what nutrients these seaweed needed to survive on, and instead of expelling carbon dioxide, they can be modified to expel energon. It would be the discovery of the century, and even though Seaspray didn’t understand half of the Cybertronian Jetfire was speaking, he was happy to be learning about the plants in the ocean. And with how energetic he sounded only added to the interesting points he was highlighting.

While their chatter played in the background, Prowl was sitting, drinking a cup of energon. He was busy concerning himself over what Smokescreen was going to do with the information he threatened him with when they first encountered. How much power does he really have over him? Prowl just hoped he wasn’t too restricted when they finally get to set off to Earth.

A sudden beep from the intercom startled everyone, forcing Prowl from his thoughts.

“Prowl, I need to speak to you. Can you come to my office at this time?” Optimus’ vocalizer sounded through the room, and everyone’s eyes landed on the mentioned bot. He replied instantly.

“Of course, see you then, Prime.” 

And with that, Prowl briskly exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Now, his mind began to race. What was it now? Did Smokescreen do something already? Thoughts filled his helm as he continued to Prime’s office, barely noticing that he was already at the door. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Optimus was at his desk briefly finishing whatever he was reading before the monitor zipping away with a satisfying *zzsk.*

“Prowl, have you finished assembling your team?” he asked as he stood and motion for Prowl to take a seat.

“No sir, but I’m working on it.” Prowl replied with confidence, secretly concerned with where this conversation was actually leading. It’s not that he had been slacking off, it was just difficult to find a bot who wanted to leave to a distant planet they were unfamiliar with.

“That's alright, Prowl, no need to fret too much. I was just going to suggest that you add a certain bot to the team.” He said, peaking Prowls interest and calming his spark, just a little.

“And who might that be?” Prowl asked, curiosity laced in his voice. If Prime was suggesting a bot, then they had to have caught his attention somehow. 

“That would be an old bot, Warpath. He came up to me and asked if he could contribute to something, anything. The poor bot felt guilty for not doing anything around here after his injury. I told him about our project and he’d be glad to be a part of it. If you let him, of course.” Optimus told, looking to see what Prowl’s reaction would be.

“Oh, that sounds great. Anyone could fill the gaps we have at this point. Is there any chance I could meet him now?” Prowl asked. He was interested as to who this bot could have been. And an old bot... he had never acquainted with one before due to the nature of his job, working alone for the most part. 

“Yes. He is currently in the game room, go ahead and meet him, Prowl.” Optimus chimed as he turned the monitor on with a *zzsk.*

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

“Of course.” Prowl rose from his seat and Optimus proceeded to tell Prowl about how Warpath looked. He told Prowl that Warpath was well experienced on the field, and a stubborn bot. Regardless of this fact, he was actually quite a good ally, and knew Prime like the back of his hand.

With this information, Prowl thanked Prime and made his way to the game room, happy to meet a new bot. Actually now that he thought about it, these past few days have seemed to fly by so quickly, he never realized that he barely knew anyone at this base. He worked in the privacy of his own office for so long, it’s left him a bit anti-social as a consequence. Not that he minds it at all, but the others might have difficulty with him. Being a burden was something he might have to work on.

Just as he was finishing his thought, he came across the room Prime had mentioned earlier, the game room. Prowl had never actually been in this room, either. He was about to step inside when he heard a loud commotion taking place deep within. He opened to door slowly, so no one would notice him walk inside. He took a peek and saw a dim lit bar, purple and green energon cocktails glowing in the servos of tipsy Autobots trash talking about how Decepticons are this and that. Any more time in this room might destroy the circuits in his brain with how cringy their slurs were. Bots left and right were seated at little tables and gossiping loudly, causing Prowl to lower the intensity in is audials. He would never survive in a place like this. The smell of energon filled the entirety of the section, almost a suffocating scent.

Prowl decided that he needed to maneuver pass the bar section with quickly, his sensory taking in too much of this place. He lightly brushed past bots who blocked pathways, wobbling aside and mumbling incoherently. As he continued, he heard the argument from earlier, and moved in the direction of it. He stepped into to the neon lit room and found two bots yelling at each other at a large table, having gathered a large crowd.

That's him, Warpath! He thought as he remembered Optimus’ description from earlier. This, however, was not how he expected to see him. Cards were sprawled all over the table, a couple dozen aces stacked in front of a bot that Warpath was currently yelling at.

“Yeah? Then what are those doing in 'ya pockets?!” He yelled at the younger bot, his vocalizer on the edge of glitching out. He pointed at him accusingly, making sure everyone in this section of the room saw who the big cheater was. Warpath seemed to be shaking with rage, his face dusting with a light red.

“What theeese?” The younger bot smirked as he out-stretched his arm and pointed to the aces that endlessly fell out his arm compartment, showing off the extensive measures he went through to win this game.

This taunt seemed to only piss of Warpath even more, as he began to climb onto the table, reaching his hands out in an attempt to strangle the other.

“You do this every time Hot Rod! I’m getting real sick of your slag kid!” He seethed, the other bystanders yelling in approval, pumping their fists into the air encouragingly.

Hot Rod laughed, his vocalizer full of nervousness as he rose quickly as sprinted toward the door. To his surprise, he bumped into Prowl, who was standing at the entrance about to intervene.

“Oh, sorry 'bout that.” He dismissed quickly, placing a servo on Prowl’s shoulder, trying to shove him out of the way. When Prowl didn’t budge, he whipped his helm behind him to see how Warpath was progressing. Warpath was venting loudly, grumbles escaping his vocalizer as he walked quickly toward Hot Rod. Other bots tried to slow him down by grabbing his arms, only to be shoved to the ground by his immense strength. He began advancing quickly, causing Hot Rod to push Prowl out the door. Prowl stumbled out, surprised by the action.

“Hey, you gotta help me. I found myself in a... sticky situation” The young bot spoke, as he constantly looked behind him to see if Warpath was still on his tail.

“I-I can’t-” Barely even able to form a coherent thought, Prowl was interrupted by the sporadic bot.

“Thanks! The names Hot Rod.” Hot Rod offered Prowl a hand, to which he took hesitantly.

“Uh, Prowl.” He replied, other questions rising in his vocalizer.

“So how did you-”

“No time! Just got caught cheating with jugs of Premium energon on the line!!” He managed to spew, grabbing Prowls servo and running through the corridors of the game room, a seemingly passive name for this place. As they were running, bots recognized Hot Rod and cheered and joked, having seen him like this multiple times.

“Hey, it's the Trickster! What are ya’ running from this time?”

“Ha, he’s at it again!”

“This never gets old.”

Hot Rod simply gave them smiles as he carefully squeezed his way through hordes of Autobots gathering around him. He had a mission, and that was to get as far from Warpath as possible.

“Yup, that’s me. Scuse’ me. Sorry bout’ that. Nice to see you.” He mentioned to others as he quickly walked further into the crowd. Loud music allowed him to play off the ‘can’t hear you’ card, still holding onto Prowls servo.

“You keeping up?” Hot Rod teased as they finally made it through the bar section to a quieter part of the game room, a sports bar. He glanced at a T.V. suspended on a wall, a car race having just taken place. An arrogant bot was boisterly bragging about winning first place by a staggering twenty extra seconds. 

It was only now that Prowl noticed that he himself was breathing heavily through his vents, and the other bot noticed, too.

“Need a drink? Hold on.” He said as he finally let go of his hand. 

“Nothing with alcohol please, I don’t-” But before that sentence could be finished, Hot Rod had already turned over to the bartender and yelled for two energon cubes. He looked back at Prowl and motioned to take a seat next to him. Prowl sat down and let out a vent. That whole ordeal seemed to take place in the span of two seconds, and Prowls spark almost couldn’t take it.

“Heh, you doing okay? When was the last time you went out?” Hot Rod joked, taking a sip of energon. Prowl was just about ready to return to the hab suite, missing being around the others already. He was about to take a sip of his own cup when he realized he had already finished it. Hot Rot smiled to himself as he briefly recalled the rush of adrenaline he felt just a few minutes ago.

Prowl resetted his vocalizer and finally, properly, began a conversation with the younger bot.

“So, you do this every week? How do you manage…” he spoke as he look at Hot Rod with genuine concern.

“It really isn’t that hard to get into trouble, it’s getting out of it that knocks the breath out of 'ya.” Hot Rod replied, a question rising in his vocalizer as he made a realization.

“Actually, I’ve never seen you in these parts before. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you find yourself here?” He looked at Prowl intrigued, leaning closer to the other bot.

“I was searching for Warpath with a request-”

“Ooh, what kind of request?” The bot chirped excitedly. Prowl was hesitant to let this young, reckless bot in on the mission.

“I can’t tell you. I’m not sure if you’re really mature enough for this type of deal.” Prowl said, being as straightforward as possible. Hot Rod gave Prowl a head tilt and a confused look.

“Not mature enough? I can be mature. I can be more mature than Warpath, that’s for sure.”

When Prowl raised an eyebrow at the remark, the other seemed to be shocked by the reaction.

“I’m not kidding! Did you see him try to kill me back there? That just screams immaturity.” He pouted, sinking into his chair. But he wasn’t going to give up just yet.

“What makes Warpath so much better than me?”

“Hey, it’s nothing personal, it just how things work.” Prowl had left his reply at that, considering for a bit if he should actually let this bot in with the team. After some time, Prowl gave him the benefit of the doubt, and made an offer.

“If you really are interested, you’ll have to tell me what exactly it is you do.” Prowl finally spoke, giving the kid a chance to strut his stuff.

“Well, I’m actually new to this whole Autobot thing. I’ve gathered quite the reputation in this little bar but... I used to be a rogue race car. Used to beat the best. I decided that I needed to change my habits cause’ they started to take a number on me. But the truth is, I 'kinda miss it. The thrill, the rush, the speed... I wish I could do it again. Not even that, I wish I can do something that can occupy my attention and keep me on my pedes. I want... an adventure.” He ended, looking up at Prowl. He hoped he had tugged on his spark enough for him to let him in on whatever secret he was hiding. 

Prowl looked away at the counter and began contemplating. This kid had so much promise and drive, he had to let him on the team. That, and Hot Rod's servo was resting uncomfortably on his knee cap.

“You’ve got ambition, and I like that about you. I’ll let you in on our mission, okay?” Prowl said, scooting away slightly. Hot Rod removed his hand and perked up excitedly, anxiously waiting for Prowl's response.

Prowl told him about the mission and described the possible difficulties associated with such a dangerous task, hoping to scare him off a little. To his dismay, this only seemed to excite the young bot even more.

“Woah, encounters with the earthlings?! That’s sounds awesome!” Hot Rod beamed, almost jumping out of his chair.

“No, possible encounters-” But, before Prowl could finish his correction, Hot Rod had yanked his servo off the chair and began sprinting for the exit, leaving Prowl bewildered and stunned as he followed him.

“I finally found 'ya kid!” Warpaths vocalizer boomed and his heavy pedes pounded the ground as he ran towards the younger bot.

Hot Rod felt the rush of adrenaline and pulled a little harder on Prowl's servo in urgency. They two of them found their way out of the game room, vents filtering out hot air in exhaustion.

“We should... head to my... hab suite… ” Prowl huffed, agreeing to let Hot Rod join the crew.

“Yes! Where is it?” Hot Rod questioned enthusiastically.

* * *

“Now, I’ve just been pestering Warpath in the game room. It’s a hobby of sorts.” Hot Rod bragged to the others of the crew, each of which were each interested in this young bots story of troublemaking.

Just as Smokescreen was going to praise his evil genius, several sporadic knocks on the door interrupted the story time. Prowl rose quickly and pressed a button the made the door *froosh* away, revealing who the boisterous knocks belonged to.

“Now this is where my alt mode comes in handy.” Hot Rod silently demonstrated as he tried to find his way to become out of sight to the bot at the door.

“Hey Prowl, good to see 'ya, Optimus told me to- Hey, is that the no good for slag bot who cheated at poker for a few chugs of energon? Why I 'oughta... ” Warpath boomed as he pushed Prowl out of the way and showed himself into to room, eyes locked with the other bot currently trying to leave the room. 

This is the first moment the entire team shared together, complete with shouts of encouragement from Smokescreen and not as much encouragement from Seaspray, even if unspoken. Unheard, rather. Little did this group know that they would do wonders for the entirety of the Autobots, and create history as they don’t know it yet. This, was the beginning of everything, the start of something brand new.

This, was Earth One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, we are just getting started! Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter, and please leave your comments and suggestions! My brother and I would love to hear from you! Anyway, the next chapter will be focusing on the O.B.A., the Decepticon version, if you will, of the Earth One team. Stick around, and see you next chapter!


	3. Success and Failures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bombshell makes discoveries and Reflector makes some mistakes.

"Finally, I can exploit my scientific expertise. I've been dying to get my servos on a piece of equipment." Bombshell began as he opened the twin doors of an abandoned experimentation room, taking in the blinding whites of the walls and a few dried up energon puddles here and there. He didn't mind much though. What was a discovery without a bit of sacrifice? Or a lot of it.

Despite the horrid smell, Long Haul tried to find something to distract himself from.

"So what exactly are we going to be working on? Or finishing, rather, right?" He started as he remembered what Bombshell was telling him about. Soundwave had asked them to work on a once important project that were forgotten about at the start of the war. While rummaging through files, Bombshell encountered the laboratory reports of these failed experiments and brought it to Megatron's attention. And now, here they were, fiddling with some ancient technology that Long Haul didn't quite understand.

"Well, we are picking up where Jetfire and Starscream left off on. These are some bots they called the 'Combaticons." Eh, good enough name, I'll give 'em that. But, in the process of the experimentation, Jetfire was hesitant about the whole operation, and called it quits. And, Starscream couldn't do it himself, so... here we are. Finishing their mess. Not that I care, I've been waiting for this opportunity since the war started!" Bombshell walked around and began turning on equipment, exciting himself. Long Haul looked around curiously, and that was as far as that went.

Machines and whirling disks began to hum mechanically, and lights and screens popped to life, making the room glow a light neon color. Bombshell looked around excitedly, looking at Long Haul to say something. Long Haul tensed and prepared for a shout of excitement.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Bombshell gave Long Haul a smirk behind his face plate, and ran over to a table with a white sheet covering it. He grabbed it and threw it off gracefully, the whoosh echoing throughout the lab.

"Oh! That's... I'm going to gather some supplies now..." Long Haul said, briskly looking away from the mangled Combaticon. It was like nothing he's ever seen before, grossly discolored and missing limbs. Dried energon, once leaking from his mouth. It was only a split second, but still enough to almost make him gag. But he had a job, and he needed to complete this responsibility. Even if it was just to gather materials, bots like Bombshell relied on him. Even if he wasn't exactly open about his appreciation.

He heard Bombshell laugh at his reaction, wheezing and all. Long Haul looked around sheepishly, looking for something to do.

"You doing okay there, buddy? Damn, I haven't seen a reaction like that in a while. It's always funny. Hey, can you help me look for the overview? It's a little paper that- oh there's one." Bombshell said as he calmed himself, reading through the overview quickly. Long Haul looked at him, waiting for a response. He wasn't a fan of being made fun of like this, but he needed something to feel useful. The other Constructicons, his lifetime friends, were carrying out solo missions, leaving him all by himself. It tore apart at his spark, he missed them so badly. They used to do everything together, but the top staff seemed to not acknowledge that. Now, he was thrown and tossed aside for some mad scientist to fool with. Long Haul would never admit this, though.

"Ah, okay. I've got something for 'ya to do. You wanna leave so badly? Okay. I need you to get at least three gallons of energon. Think you can do that?" He asked as he threw the paper in the air nonchalantly. Long Haul cringed at the gesture and nodded his helm, excusing himself from the room.

Finally out for some fresh air, he vented. Bombshell was so much to handle. But he needed to get a grip and deal with it. It's not like he has anything better to do. He made his way to the storage room, a huge facility with rows of stacked goods in crates, bustling with a few decepticons walking in and out. He walked over to the third aisle and grabbed two gallons of energon. It was just then that he realized that he couldn't carry three, or more for that fact. Long Haul panicked slightly. Sure, he could just come back for more, but that would be so inefficient. He looked around and spotted another Decepticon, seemingly not doing anything. Was that... Crankcase?

"Hey, Crankcase?" He said as he walked over to the bot, looking grumpy as usual. Long Haul and Crankcase go way back, best buds. Every bot ridiculed Long Haul for his useless abilities whereas Crankcase was a bot who no bot liked in general. He always complained, pestered bots into doing his dirty work just to get him to shut up, a bad bot to be around.

Not for Long Haul. He found Crankcase to be quite interesting, actually. If you listened carefully, Crankcase had reasons to be upset all the time. They started to hang out after a few times of bumping into each other. They enjoyed each other's company, and it was always fun to find something to complain about.

"Hey, is that you Long Haul? Nice to see you!" And despite his bad reputation, he was actually quite nice to Long Haul.

"Good to see you too, 'Case. Sorry to bother you, but could you help me out with something?" He began, as they both started walking to the third aisle. He saw the energon and picked up two jugs.

"Yeah, sure. And what are you doing here? Haven't seen you with the other Constructicons in a while." Crankcase started, concerned as to what happened to the group. He noticed that they haven't been together recently, and was worried about Long Haul's mental health. He was very sensitive, something only he knew. Long haul grabbed two jugs of energon as well, and they walked out.

"Yeah, well, Megatron has been needing them for solo missions and, I've just had nothing to do since. I got up and tried to find work, any work. And now I'm an assistant to Bombshell." He said anticlimactically, looking down.

"The crack-head scientist?" Crankcase mentioned, almost laughing at the thought. Bombshell was a relatively new bot to the Decepticons, but never really got to show his true colors yet. In the lab, at least. He did a pretty good job freaking every bot out with his weird science things he would talk about and bio-molecular studies, or whatever. When it came down to it, all it was, was bragging. Not that he had anything to show for it.

"But it's not all bad. In fact, I think it'll be a bit more bearable if you...joined me?" Long Haul offered, hoping he wouldn't be rejected. But to his surprise, Crankcase was happy to join.

"I'll join you. I want to see what that crazy scientist is up to." He said as they continued their walk back to the lab.

* * *

What in the world are they up to? Reflector thought as he watched a team of Autobots scoping out a deserted area out in the arctic. It was cold, and hunching over like this wasn't exactly the most comfortable position he could be in right now. But if he made any sudden movements, then the Autobots would discover him instantly. He had to work carefully.

Reflector looked to the left of him, Ravage sitting patiently in the snow beside him. The little black panther was recording audio about whatever it was that brought 6 or more Autobots in the middle of snowy, empty field. This really was a strange sight, they must be planning something large. Ravage's ear perked up as he intently listened to the conversation. At the sight of this, Reflector realized something.

This was getting pretty boring. I could be looking at anything else right now. If Megatron really needed information, it would be this audio. He transformed into his alt mode, a camera, and snapped a few pictures before walking away from the scene carefully. What would he tell Megatron when he gets back- Oh look, a dexi-squirrel! He thought as he crouched over and studied the cute little creature. The robot squirrel wiggled it's nose adorably, taking a sniff of this larger bot. Reflector nearly squealed at its curiosity, until this cute moment was cut short.

"Wait, guys, who's that?"

Reflector whipped his head around, only to see the entire team of Autobots staring right at him, and the bot Hot Rod was walking toward him. I've been spotted! He thought as he rose suddenly and began running away. He looked for the squirrel in his haste, and noticed it was jumping away in the thick snow.

Ravages audio transfer was going to be cut short, just because he thought looking at a squirrel would be more interesting than spying on what the Autobots were doing. You know what? Megatron won't find out.

* * *

Reflector was just outside Megatron's office, nerves spilling out of every body part. He was so nervous, his servo just hovering over the door. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

*knock* *knock*

*fwoosh*

"Ah, Reflector. Back so soon? What news did you bring for me?" Megatron said enthusiastically as he rose from his chair and turned the visual monitor off.

"Oh, you won't believe it my Lord. Ravage and I went out and we spotted some Autobots." Reflector replied, trying to make it sound more exciting then it actually was. He never really gathered any real information while out, he had just seen activity. And a squirrel. But he wasn't going to tell him that.

"Right, that's what we sent you out for. But what did you see?" He pressured, trying to get some actual information from Reflector.

"While I was out, I saw a group of 6 or more Autobots. They seemed to be scoping out the area in preparation for some large project." Reflector said, hoping this would be enough for the other bot.

Megatron stood in silence for a while, thinking. If he was out for that long, how is this the only bit of information he gathered?

"Reflector," Megatron began, as he sat down and turned his visual monitor back on.

"Yes, Lord Megatron?"

"You were out for an extended period of time, weren't you?" Megatron questioned as he began typing and inputting figures into the computer.

"Yes." What is he doing? Taking my job away? Banishing me forever? Planning my execution? Replacing me?!

"Reflector. I have a job for you. But first, await the arrival of Ravage." He said as he resumed his attention to the monitor.

Reflector walked over to the wall and stood in waiting, hoping Ravage was to come soon. Preferably right now.

* * *

In the meantime, Long Haul and Crankcase put on their goggles excitedly. This was the fourth Combaticon that Bombshell had experimented with, the others had ended up in failure. It was useless giving them names before they even were able to walk. If they walked. The first one never woke up. The second one was only able to move his arm. The third one's vitals went offline. And now, this fourth one.

"Okay, so this time, I added only small amounts of energon, but dispersed it manually. Theoretically, the spark will have less strain when reactivating the bot. This will increase the chances of survive by at least twenty percent. I'll name this one... Brawl." Bombshell announced as he added a few more drops of energon in the elbow crease, then stepped back confidently. Crankcase was standing near a red button, and when Bombshell gave him a nod, he pressed it. Some starter cables attached to the helm and chest plate pulsed, and Brawls entire body began glowing blue. This was the strangest reaction of all the experiments, and the three of them hoped it was the one to bring a Combaticon to life.

The cables began to pulsate faster and faster, and the monitor began blinking red in warning. This was all good news to Bombshell as he looked on eagerly. Long Haul and Crankcase braced themselves for an explosion of some sort, hugging each other in fear. Long Haul couldn't bear to watch, this was the most active one they've seen. It was so gross, and it's intensity was increasing. Crankcase was just worried about what the mental state of this one would be, seeing as it will be alive.

The beeping became fierce, the cables jumped off Brawl's body, and electricity sputtered from machines around. Whirring became intense and the lights were flickering rapidly. Long Haul grasped Crankcase tightly, and Bombshell leaned in. A sound began emerging, then suddenly-

*Crash!*

Light bulbs bursted, and the Combaticon merely jumped and then lay limp on the table.

"Wait what?" Bombshell said, recovering quickly from the disturbing sight and began walking toward the visual monitor, addressing a pop up. Long Haul and Crankcase let go of each other and vented, their sparks racing rapidly. Oh Primus... Long Haul thought to himself, and clutched his chest plate. That was incredible and insane at the same time! The most reactive patient today. Our next on will for sure be more lucky. Poor bot though... The other thought as he regained his composure.

"Aha! So... allow me explain what went wrong with this one." Bombshell began as he walked over to the dead Combaticon. He reached for it's upper helm, and grabbed a tiny saw blade that was on the ground, probably there from the electrical explosion from earlier. He turned it on, and a soft *whhrrr* played while he was opening the brain circuits of the bot. Then, he placed the saw blade down and pulled out a square circuit piece, smoking from the heat.

"This is the cerebral circuit, the bit that collects and stores data about yourself, and the entirety of what a bot knows. It exploded for this chup, but that's okay! I know how to fix this with the next one. Though this might screw with his personality, it shouldn't end up like this one. The energon dispersion strategy I used worked perfectly, now I just need to use it on a bot who won't die." He said, bringing his servo to his chin and thinking.

"Long Haul, you can get this on off the table. And Crankcase, put that O.C.D. to good use, yeah?" He said as he walked away from the mess, and went to the curtain directly next to them, where the next Combaticon lay.

Crankcase went right to work and yanked a towel from a rack and was scrubbing instantly, the mess bothering to look at. Long Haul was still trying to figure out how to move the lifeless form without getting too disgusted.

"Looks like you were pretty close this time. What was the cause of the circuit short-out?" Crankcase asked, his spark burning with curiosity.

Bombshell actually didn't know. Well, not entirely. He was preparing for the next experiment on the table right next to the old one, adding a white sheet to the base of the table.

"Well kid, to be entirely honest, this should have been the one. I didn't mess with any of that cerebral stuff, that's not what I specialize in... but, maybe that was the problem. Maybe I need to mess with it. Not sure why, but whatever Jetfire or Starscream did to this bots brain fragged it up so bad that it short circuited inside his helm. I'm thinking it was a failed attempt to make him smarter, but they forgot to account for how much an outdated cerebral circuit can take. But I'm no mnemosergon, so I'd be working blindly here... but I have to try." He tried to explain the best he could, because as he spoke, the more it was making sense to him.

But, why had Jetfire and Starscream mess with that circuit? I mean, you can't be born smart. You can't be programmed to know how to be smart. You just become smart with hard work... so if anything, they should have messed with a personality circuit; because, working with the cerebral one would essentially be...

Suicide for the bot.

But why?

"Bombshell?" Long Haul placed a servo on his shoulder, and Bombshell flinched at the sudden contact.

"Oh, sorry I was just... thinking... " He apologized, acting slightly askew. Strangely, he felt an immense pressure, one of which he has never had before regarding a science experiment. Usually he just does science. Science for the sake of science. This time though, he felt as though this next Combaticon had to survive. He had to live.

"That's alright, this one is a tough one to wrap my head around, too. I wonder exactly what it is we would need to change on his cerebral circuit..." Crankcase thought out loud. Long Haul had the assistance of him with the previous bot and was still trying to recover from the gruesome scene.

"Okay, well, I'll have to try to keep the modifications simple, I don't want to mess up anything too major." Bombshell responded truthfully. His whole mad scientist demeanor was on a low, and the other two bots were slightly confused.

"You want to keep it simple? Ha, since when?" Crankcase questioned half jokingly and half in genuine concern.

"Look, I don't really know what to do, so just give me a minute, okay?" He spoke crudely, and the part that was pissing him off the most was that he didn't know. He felt as though he was emotionally connected to this next bot, and this was only adding to the frustration.

Crankcase and Long Haul caught drift of the situation, and left the lab. They both sat down next to the door, and stayed silent for a bit.

"He was definitely acting strange, right? Was it something I said?" Crankcase said, concerned he may have triggered something within the scientist.

"No, no, this was different. He may have been overwhelmed at the responsibility of only having one shot left at the life of this bot. But that's just what I gathered." Long Haul ended quickly. He didn't really like talking about Bombshell behind his back like this. Crankcase dropped it as well, this wasn't the right time to speak about this, he figured.

More silence. The events that took place in the lab were taking a toll on the two, usually chatting up about how unfair something is.

Suddenly, the door *fssshed* open quickly, and Bombshell rushed out and confronted the two bots.

"Guys, I just figured it out." He said as he ran back into the lab, his pedes hitting the floor and echoing.

The two bots exchanged confused glances and ran inside as well.

"Okay," Bombshell began as he grabbed an overview he had scribbled on and pointed out a line. He was hunched over a table and Long Haul and Crankcase both look over his shoulder.

"This is the one that leads away and connects to all the other circuits. So let's call that the main circuit. The main circuit was cut on the last guy, so all the energon traveling to that circuit never left; therefore, the circuit built up energy and exploded. Logical explanation but not logical reasoning for it... Anyway, what I've done with Vortex is I've added a supplementary circuit in addition to the cerebral circuit and the main circuit. This will leave enough space for the current to travel and properly transmit data and not explode." He explained with exaggerated hand gestures and jumped up and ran to a different table.

"Okay, so Vortex is what you decided to name this one?" Crankcase questioned, following him in the process to this table, circuits and jumbles cluttering it. Long Haul and Crankcase were surprised he came up with a name already, and not even telling them about it yet.

"Now this, this is the- oh- the- okay- yeah, this one! This is the circuit cluster I'll use for Vortex." He said as he picked up some circuits, discarded some, and threw some aside. He finally held one that was golden and silver in hue, and seemed to be the neatest one to follow with thier optic.

"When it comes to your cerebral circuits, simple is always better. Also, I gave Vortex updated circuits, since, you know, they were there so... Anyway, let's put this in and start him up!" He exclaimed suddenly and ran over to the bot on the table.

Long Haul vented, this was a lot of jumping and explanations. But Bombshell looked happy enough, so it was worth it. Crankcase was just as excited as he was, jumping and running in unison with the crazy scientist.

Bombshell opened up Vortex's helm slowly, and placed the circuit cluster carefully, then closing the helm and welding it with a little concentrated burner that he built into his digit a few years ago.

He attached all the jumper cables onto his chest and helm, and backed off. He took a look at the visual computer, checking to see if anything was amiss. Then he rechecked the cables, and gave Crankcase a thumbs up.

Crankcase pressed the red button for the fifth time, hoping this was the one.

The jumper cables began to pulsate softly, glowing blue. Bombshell grabbed a bottle of energon with a nib, just in case he need to insert emergency energon anywhere. He could not mess this up. This was the one.

Vortex's body began to glow a hazy blue as well, and his servos began to move slowly. This was the one.

Vortex's helm was lit up with a dark blue then changing to deep gray, and his visor seemed to light up. The energon began to make his body light up with previously unseen colors, a visually beautiful sight. His colors were lighting up the room, gray and blue with a mix of that dark purple. This was the one.

The jumper cables came to a slow stop, and Vortex's vocalizer was making little static noises. The room was still, no one spoke. Then, Bombshell realized he should be looking out for his vitals and he began to type in the visual monitor.

Vortex's helm lifted, and Long Haul rushed over to help the bot out. Crankcase helped him move his legs to hang over the table, and Vortex placed his hands down for stability.

He was the one.

* * *

*ksssck*

"Prowl, have you found a good take-off route? Over." Questioned Optimus through the transceiver.

"Yes, this seems like a good place to start the journey to Earth. We are about ready to start heading back to base. See you then, over and out. Okay, Earth One, I just finished up with Optimus regarding the mission." Prowls voice emitted from Ravages audio receptors.

"Earth One, has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"Jetfire's voice spoke.

"Sure does. Only a genius could have come up with that name." Hot Rod mentioned.

*ksssck*

Ravage sat down peacefully as the audio finished.

"Good job Ravage." Soundwave dismissed, and Ravage jumped up onto a makeshift bed some Decepticon created for it.

"Hmm... So the Autobots plan to abandon Cybertron and retreat to Earth? Interesting... " Megatron commented to himself as he pondered aloud. He glanced over at Reflector, and he stood at attention at the sudden look. His frame shook at the thought of whatever Megatron had planned for him.

"What are you suggesting, Lord Megatron?" Soundwave inquired as he looked over to him in confusion. Was he really planning something to intercept this mission the Autobots were going on?

"I've got an idea, Soundwave, and I need Bombshell for this." He spoke, a grin laced on his features.

"And you," He said as he looked at Reflector.

"Yes, Lord Megatron?" Reflector managed to squeak out in the midst of his apprehension.

"You have a very important job I need for you to complete for me. But first, explain this to me. Ravage." He commanded as Ravage jumped off its bed and stood at attention for him.

"Play the audio."

Ravage sat down and the audio started.

*ksssck*

"Wait, guys, who's that?" Hot Rods voice emitted from the speaker, and dread instantly filled Reflector spark as he remembered this moment perfectly.

There was some shuffling in the snow, and a whispered "Frag!" Then, the sound of running in thick snow was replayed, along with what sounded like Reflector tripping and recovering hastly, the sound of ruffling snow filling the speaker.

A tiny squeak was heard at the end of the audio.

*ksssck*

Ravage ran and jumped back to his bed, and curled up into a ball.

Reflector smiled awkwardly as he tried to laugh off this embarrassing situation.

"I asked you to explain, Reflector." Megatron spoke darkly, having just found a child caught eating all the candy. Or chasing a squirrel.

"I- well... um... " He managed to conjure up just a few words before giving up entirely, just letting his helm hang in shame.

"Enough. I have an important assignment I need done, and I think you need to learn some discipline. You like it here on Cybertron, don't you?" Megatron began, a plan bubbling in his spark.

"I do, yes Lord Megatron."

"Then how would you like to prove your worth as becoming the first member of the O.B.A. Earth excavation team?" He asked, already knowing the response he was going to get.

Reflector hated the sound of this, but he had to. His entire life stood on the line. If he was to say no, he'd be meeting his makers earlier than he had expected.

"I accept, Lord Megatron." He responded gravely, as he bowed his head. He had no idea what he was in for.

"Excellent. I will place more members later, but in the meantime, recruit a member for me."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Reflector said as he left the room he'd been dying to leave for the past four hours. He closed the door behind him and vented heavily. Just who was he going to recruit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading. This was the Decepticons side of things, as they are also planning to intercept the Autobot team. This chapter was lots of fun to write, especially the lab experiments. Anyway, thanks for stopping by and leave a comment! Also, this story can be found on Wattpad. It has the same name, and I have the same username as well.


	4. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bombshell and Vortex work on the space bridge, and Reflector makes a new friend. Megatron makes a startling announcement.

“Are we going to bring Vortex with us? Not sure if he is entirely up to it right now.” Crankcase mentioned, looking over at Vortex. Long Haul, Bombshell, and Crankcase were heading over to Megatron's office, but were debating on whether they should bring Vortex with them or not. They needed to let him know that the experiment was successful, but bringing Vortex would further prove it. But, what if he says something dumb, then suddenly, everyone's out of a job?

“Well, it’s an option. What do 'ya think little buddy?” Bombshell said as he looked over at the bot, now sitting criss cross on the floor. He had been strictly silent since he’d woken up, and the other bots just figured that was his personality. Bombshell seem to notice that something was up with the bot.

“Guess that’s a no. Okay, one of us needs to stay here with him, right?” Bombshell looked at two others in question, hoping one of them wouldn’t volunteer. When the silence persisted, he was getting pretty restless, and thankful.

“Um, you guys can just head out, I’ll look over him. I need to check his vitals anyway.” He said as he walked over to a computer and started it up. He was glad to have this time to spend with Vortex, try to get him to speak a little.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Long Haul and I will go let Megatron know for you. If there's anything else you need help with, you’ve got our personal frequency.” Crankcase spoke, tugging at Long Haul a bit. They left the room, and closed the door with an echo that traveled around the empty lab, reminding the two bots remaining how quiet it actually was.

Bombshell vented, and looked at Vortex. He looked so broken, like something was missing. Bombshell walked over to the bot with a cable in one servo, and offered the bot his other. Vortex lifted his arm in compliance, and Bombshell placed the cable into a slot, and looked back at the visual monitor.

It flashed green, and proceeded to upload data and infographics. A stable spark monitor enlightened Bombshell's mood, but this bot was still not talking. He tried to get something out of him.

“All your vitals look good. How are you feeling?” He spoke softly, his whole mad scientist persona was going to have to be suppressed for now. This was pretty hard, being openly nice to someone. Definitely not something he was used to.

His vocalizer made a static plagued noise, alarming Bombshell slightly. He looked at Vortex, awaiting his attempt to speak.

“I am stabilized.” He spoke, his vocalizer now clear. But he was speaking robotically, no personality at all.

“You’re just reading statistics. Tell me how you feel... emotionally.” Bombshell emphasized as he walked over and sat next to Vortex on the floor.

Vortex shifted instantly, then settled, thinking about his response.

“I feel..” He gave it some thought.

“Horrible...why am I here?” Vortex said suddenly, finding his voice quickly. He looked at Bombshell in longing, the face of pain decorating his features, and Bombshell felt his spark pull hard at his chest. This poor bot…

“Well, you were part of a... failed experiment.” He was going to tell him about how strange that weird cerebral circuit problem was, but that would just complicate things. He wanted to be clear to Vortex, he wants this to be easy for him.

“You, and four other bots. There were four before you, which are the ones we worked on first, Long Haul, Crankcase, and me. Unfortunately, you were the only one that came out successful. I had to alter your cerebral circuit cause it was all messed up. What I did was- ahem. Anyway, um, I’m sorry about your... brothers.”Bombshell told, realizing that he ended that on a somber note, and tried to correct his mistake. But before he could, the heartbroken bot spoke.

“M-My brothers? They were my brothers?” He questioned, his vocalizer glitching out. His vents began to churn out air quickly, as if he was hyperventilating. Bombshell gasped and tried to calm the bot. He wasn’t a medic, but this didn’t look good.

“That’s okay! It’s okay. I can always work on them another time, I figured out what went wrong with them, all of them. Don’t freak out, I can fix them now.” Despite saying this, Vortex was still shaking, his servo coming to his chest plate and clutching it. Bombshell didn’t know what to do, and began to get up and pace around the room. After a few seconds he realized that it wasn’t helping. He was hesitating, saying things but never completing the thought.

“Well you could- I can- there's this thing- do you need a- no that's stupid- Oh frag! What do I-” But before Bombshell had a mental breakdown, he heard a laugh. 

Laughter?

Soon this laughter turned into an obnoxious cackle, echoing fiercely throughout the entire lab. After a while of confusion, he finally looked at the source of the laugh, and pulled back in shock.

Vortex!?

“Why are you..” Bombshell whispered, as that was all he could muster at the moment. Hell, he couldn’t even process the sight before him. Vortex was clutching his abdomen, unable to keep balance anymore, and just fell over. Then, he sat up and vented joyfully with a playful smirk resting on his face. Just now he was... now he’s... What?!

“The look on your face! Oh Primus... That was just... ”Vortex stopped speaking for a bit, and recalled the moment from just a few seconds ago, and began laughing again.

“Okay, what the frag was that?” Bombshell came to the (slow) realization that Vortex had been faking this the entire time, and now he was pissed.

Vortex couldn’t even respond to him, his laughter filling his vocalizer. This bot was lucky he had just entered this world, but Bombshell could take him out of it in a sparkbeat. 

“Hey, listen to me! Oh, stop laughing already.” Bombshell said as he walked over to the bot and took his arm and forced him up, the bot sluggishly complying. He wiped an imaginary tear from his visor, trying to piss of the scientist even more. To his pleasure, the bot pushed him against the wall in fury. The bot bit his lip, trying not to laugh this time.

“And just what did you think you could possible gain from that!? Here I was thinking you actually needed help, you piece of slag!” Bombshell threatened as he stared this bot down, looking through his very spark. But, the bot offered him a smirk, and shook his head.

“Oh, Bombshell is it? You don’t know what type of bot I am...You told me something was messed up with my cerebral circuit, right?” He questioned the bot in front of him, looking at his optics.

“Yeah?” Where was he going with this? And why was he looking at me like that?

“Well, something is messed up indeed.” He said tilting his head and chuckling devilishly, his shoulders moving under Bombshell’s servos from the laugh. 

“W-what are you trying to pull, kid?” Bombshell looked at the bot in confusion, only fueling his laughter. This is priceless! Vortex thought as the grip on his shoulder tightened, and it actually started stinging with pain.

“Nothing. You asked me how I’m feeling…” He started again, this time not looking at Bombshell.

This was a one-sided conversation, and he was asking all the questions! Bombshell hated that this bot had a superiority over him already. But he had to figure out what this bot’s motives were. What fueled his ambition? Why was he acting like this?

“Let me tell you, Bombshell. I’m feeling... heartless.” He said, raising his head and giving bombshell a devilish look, his visor shining in the light.

It was then that Bombshell understood this bots behavior.

“Oh, okay. You’re trying to scare me, aren’t you? Okay.” Bombshell replied. He knew that when he was fixing his cerebral circuit before that he had to alter one of the passages that the current ran through, and instead of turning right, he made it turn left. After Vortex woke up, he looked at an old medical book posted on a shelf and flipped through the pages, coming across something that looked like what he’d just done on Vortex. He skimmed through it before finding an important piece of text.

Reversing the direction of the current through the circuit will alter the personality likewise. In picture XXX, we see an example of a ‘sympathy’ circuit. When the passage is reversed, then this circuit becomes a ‘sadistic’ circuit.

Bombshell loosened his grip, confusing Vortex. Why was he relaxing?

Bombshell let go of him and walked to the visual computer and turned it off.

“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just-” But Vortex was cut off by Bombshell laugh.

“Ha, kid, I know exactly how you are. It’s okay, you can drop it.” He said as he turned off the other machines, seeing that Vortex won’t need to be helped anymore, he was running perfectly fine.

“Drop what? This is how I am. I’m just-” Vortex tried to explain, interrupted by the other bot again.

“No, no. I get it. But it’s not scary. Try that on someone else, yeah? It’ll work on Long Haul.” He dismissed nonchalantly and walked over to the door. He looked back at the bewildered Vortex, who just stood in silence.

“So, I’m guessing you want to stay in here, or?” Bombshell said as he opened the door. Vortex shook his head and regained composure, and ran to the door, Bombshell following close behind.

They walked in silence for a bit, Vortex feeling... horrible for having his joke ruined.

“Hey, I’ll admit, it was pretty good. You really got me there. It wasn’t a complete failure.” Bombshell said, trying to make him feel a bit better. And to his pleasure, the bot began laughing again, remembering the event.

“Yeah, it was pretty good.” He said, lighting up a little. Bombshell wasn’t so bad. His tricks didn’t work on him, but maybe that was okay.

 

* * *

 

I really screwed myself over, didn’t I?

Reflector had just walked out of Megatron’s office, walking the halls alone to the break room. It was the only thing he was looking forward too. Bots gave him a side eye as he traversed the hall, staring at him up and down. He never really had the best reputation at this base, or any base he went to for that matter. He somehow found it easy to get into a mess. For him, getting in trouble was easier than not.

But this was a horrible motto to live by. It has been proven so many times before, but he never seems to learn... no matter how much it hurts to be treated like this. He had learned to deal with it, and just forget about it over energon.

By the time he reached to break room, he was already craving the deculant drink, finding that what he wanted wasn’t just any ordinary energon. He wanted premium energon, with the usual fix and all. He left the break room and made his way to the bar, the only place he found a harmonic refuge in. I guess you can say he had a drinking problem, but it wasn’t a problem to him. Not after he drank it, at least.

He finally made it, walking inside delighted. Man, he really needed a drink. Megatron forced him into this whole O.B.A. Earth excavation team, and now he had to recruit someone?! That bastard! He thought to himself as he ordered a cube, the bartender recognizing him instantly, always sitting in the same spot. 

But, just who the Pit would want to leave Cybertron for Earth? Especially with Reflector as their partner, the guy everyone hated.

He vented in frustration, placing his elbow plates on the table and allowed his servos to come to his helm, feeling completely hopeless. He took a swig of the alcoholic drink, but before he could swallow it, a bot placed a servo on his shoulder. He nearly spit out his energon, only drips of the glowing substance escaping his mouth.

Hook?

“Hello, Reflector is it? Do you mind me taking this seat?” He asked as he tilted his helm in curiosity.

Probably just to sit to a bot other than him.

“Sure, go ahead.” He said as he finally gulped his energon. He was just about ready to leave until he was interrupted.

“Do you know that alcoholic energon is bad for the spark? Just thought I’d let you know before they deem you useless. You could fix yourself up if you tried.” Hook added as he turned his frame to the drunk bot, who gave him a bewildered look. Since when did anyone talk to me like that? Except Megatron of course. And Soundwave occasionally. And- oh who am I kidding…

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But, if you haven’t noticed yet, I really don’t care.” He said, and ordered another energon cube while he was at it. He was having a fun pity party.

“Actually, I did notice. It’s quite bothersome seeing a bot like you in a place like this. You have one of the best specialties, a spy for Primus’ sake, you get to work closely with Megatron and make a good impression. But, you choose not to with your reckless behaviour that is far from... exemplary... I cringe at the sight of you. You really need a raincheck.” He mocked as he ordered ‘clean’ energon from the bartender, clearly intending to stay and chat a bit more. 

And, Reflector was in the mood for a little debate.

“Yeah, and you’re so much better than me? What do you do, eh? I’ve seen you in the storage room, organizing everything by size, shape, and color. I suppose Megatron will notice you that way, huh?” He remarked, taking a sip of his drink, watching Hook make a face that of a bot who held himself high who was just told he was ‘sub-par.’

He flinched at the remark.

“Excuse me? And what makes you so much higher than me?” Hook shot back, sipping his energon in an attempt to compose himself, holding the cube with both his servos.

“Well, let me tell 'ya. I, that's right, I was just added to a super secret Decepticon exclusive team that will be traveling to Earth on a quest to kill Autobots!” he exclaimed as he chugged his energon in victory, knowing he completely won that argument. Then he realized.

I just found my newest member.

“A- a what? How did you even manage to-” he stuttered, amazed that this responsibility was placed on a bot like himself. But before he could finish his thought, Reflector continued.

“Hey, it’s like you said. I work rather closely to Megatron.” He boasted, patting himself on the back. Being drunk made him sound smart and look stupid.

“And, if you really are interested... I could... hook you up with a spot as leader of this team.” He leaned in a whispered in his audial, finding it funny that Hook was disgusted by the pun and the action.

“Well, I just might take you up on that offer… ” Hook cocked his helm. He debated the idea... if he got this opportunity, Megatron will notice his expertise and perfectionism, and realize that he needed a bot like Hook this entire time. This is his one chance to prove to Megatron he is more than a construction bot.

“I'd be glad to introduce you to Megatron. Let's head over there right now, shall we?” Reflector spoke as he drunkenly stood up and stumbled to the door.

“Yes, but after you recharge at a slab. You'd look like a fool.” Hook said as he guided Reflector out of the bar, bots looking at them make a scene. Hook could not be seen with a drunk Reflector.

“Hey! Jokes on you, I'm already a fool.” He shot back, staring at Hook in the optics.

“Looking back at me is only impairing your functioning even more, just... refrain from talking for now.” he said as they made it to his hab suite, opening the door for him and laying him down on the slab. He limply fell onto it and started giggling.

“I feel funny~” He exaggerated as he closed his optics and began the recharge.

Hook vented, and took a seat at his desk, fixing a book that was slightly askew. As he waited, he began rereading the fundamentals of energon excavation for the fourth time.

 

* * *

“Megatron has requested your assistance in the creation of a space bridge that will instantly take us to Earth.” Soundwave retold, as he currently had Bombshell in a conference room.

“R-Really? Wow that's… ” He began, flustered at the idea that Megatron had requested him, personally. 

“Are you able to complete the task?” The bot questioned, interrupting his euphoric state.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, yes. Yes, sir.” He spat out quickly, trying to regain his composure. There was only one concern, however.

“I am capable of creating a space bridge, but I do need a little help.” Bombshell sank into his shoulders slightly, worried he had inconvenience Megatron’s second in command.

“Do whatever requires you to finish this task as quickly as possible. This needs to be completed in five days.” Soundwave said as he exited the room, leaving the other bot baffled.

“F-Five days?! How am I supposed to-” Bombshell started, only to be cut off by the sound of the heavy door being slammed shut. Jeez, he really needed some help, fast. After some thought, he knew just the right person for the job.

* * *

“I hate this job.” Long Haul said, optics dull.

“Come on, do it for science!” Bombshell tried to convince him, begging on his servos and kneecaps. Then, a thought entered his helm.

“Do it, and I’ll ask for Crankcase!” He exclaimed, almost laughing at the reaction he received from the other bot. Long Haul tensed at the mention of his name, and shook it off. He crossed his arms and looked back at him.

“Fine. I’ll help you with the space bridge. But enough of the mocking, please.” He managed to squeak at the end of his remark, hoping it won’t explode in his face. Bombshell almost didn’t hear him, surprised he got him out of his shell, just a little.

“Sorry about that, you’re just so easy to mess with. But, I never meant to for you to feel like that. Just don’t have your boyfriend beat me up for it.” Bombshell replied, biting his lip in order to avoid laughing instantly. But it was futile, because the funny part wasn’t what he had just said, it was Long Haul's reaction. His optics widened in surprise. His arms flashed to his side and he looked like he was going to burst from embarrassment.

“He’s not- why would you even- that doesn’t even- we’re friends!” Long Haul stuttered at the stunning accusation, understanding perfectly where he stood with Crankcase. They. were. Just. Friends. He never thought of them as anything else.

In the midst of all this, Bombshell was wheezing his aft off, clutching his chest plate and shaking violently. After he calmed down, he looked back at Long Haul, who went back to pouting and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I know, I know. I just needed to make sure that you'd help me with this. Anyway, do you think you can get Crankcase? I need to check on Vortex.” Bombshell said as he walked with Long Haul to the lab area, where they would start the project. Long Haul nodded and excused himself whilst walking away and communicated to Crankcase on his personal frequency. 

Bombshell made it to the lab and opened to door, the *fwoosh* startling Vortex inside. Turns out, he still needed medical attention, and letting news of his creation out into the base would create negative controversy. So, it was best to keep Vortex a secret, or captive in the lab, as he would put it.

“You're back, finally. Did you bring me some energon?” Vortex asked, getting up from the slab and sitting on it. He'd been in here for only a day, and it was eating him alive. He had nothing to do, only looking forward to when he would see Bombshell again. For energon, of course. He was his only source of entertainment, obviously he would miss him when he left. That, and it was boring without him.

“Oh, sorry about that, kid. I forgot to. But guess what? You get to help me with my next experiment! Doesn't that sound great?” Bombshell reassured, hoping to grab the bored bots attention. 

“Really?!” he jumped from the slab and laughed in anticipation. He was getting really excited already, and Bombshell found it quite amusing.

“Will we get to kill something? Inject pure energon into a dexi-squirrel? Or better yet, test out torture methods on live bots?” Vortex asked, holding his servos together hopefully.

“Um, no. But it'll be something even better!” Bombshell said, thinking to himself that it genuinely was better.

“What is it?” Vortex said, anxiously waiting for the response. What could possibly be better than what he had imagined?

“We'll be creating a space bridge!” Bombshell exclaimed, pumping his clutched servo in the air.

“A what?” Vortex said, disappointment plastered all over his vocalizer. 

“A space bridge!” Bombshell said, pumping his servo again.

“Okay, stop. I thought it would be fun, but guess not.” Vortex said, sitting back on the slab and slouching.

“Hey, you stop.” Bombshell said playfully as he sat next to Vortex on the slab. Sitting with him seemed to be something he did often. Vortex looked so disappointed, and Bombshell tried to lift him up.

“It will be fun. I'll try to make this interesting for you. This may not be your... thing but trust me, you'll enjoy it.” He said reassuringly, patting Vortex on his back. Vortex shrugged.

“And, hey, we can always do the torture techniques on Autobots a different day.” He said, instantly lighting up Vortex.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His bad vocabulary was rubbing off on him. But, that didn’t seem to matter. 

After some silence, Bombshell jumped up and looked at Vortex, who’s optics where glued to him instantly.

“Okay! Let's light up this joint! No. Not literally.” Bombshell specified, knowing that Vortex needed the context. After an elongated “awww,” Vortex soon joined Bombshell and they began to start up equipment and turn on valves.

Bombshell looked up some statistics and referred to past experiments for a starting point, and came across an old one. Now that he had thought about it, there weren’t any updated experiment reports, just really outdated ones. Guess the war really put a damper on the research.

Vortex found himself fiddling with some chemicals he found somewhere and was pouring them onto tables, testing out their side effects. He was thinking that he could maybe pull a prank with them, his mind racing instantly.

Bombshell looked for him and caught him the act. He gave him a scowl, to which Vortex smiled innocently, and proceed to clean it off, knowing that he would have to sooner or later.

Bombshell nodded and pulled up the report on the visual monitor. It was some research done by a solo Decepticon, probably just personal experiments. As he skimmed through the text, he glanced at Vortex, just to see what he was doing. He was sitting far away, his visor dim in a squint trying to read the text. When Vortex noticed his stare, he looked away instantly, and pouted. He didn't want to look like he cared. 'Cause he didn't.

“You looked pretty interested there. You can come sit with me, you know. You'll see the screen better.” Bombshell offered and looked away to continue looking through the report. He heard some pedes on the floor approaching, and then settling. When he didn't feel Vortex next to him, he looked around for the bot. 

Vortex found a nice little spot in front of the screen, and was criss cross next to him on the floor.

“You like the floor, don't you?” Bombshell laughed, he looked so cute despite the whole sadistic thing he had going on.

“Shut it, I'm trying to read.” he said as he stiffened at the attention he was receiving. 

Bombshell knew exactly what he needed to start with, and began to gather some metal parts. He would need loads of material. But let's start with a mini space bridge for now.

“Okay, so right now, I need to gather some materials, which Long Haul and Crankcase can get for me. In the meantime, help me with the metal disks.” he commanded as he turned on an alloy melter of some sort, adding different types of metals into it.

“Bring me the alloy mender. The thing that fuses the metal together.”

Vortex grabbed the device, and brought it to Bombshell, who outstretched his servo. He never actually looked back at him, he kept focusing on the alloy melter. With this in mind, Vortex turned on the mender, and inched it closer until he saw a reaction from the other bot.

“What the- hey what are 'ya doing?!” Bombshell flinched at the sudden heat, and began to blow at his hand in spurts. Vortex dropped the mender and started laughing, picking up the mender slowly.

Bombshell flailed his burned servo around, now discolored, and planned on revenge. 

“Messing with a scientist in his own lab? Haha, your going to get it.” Bombshell exclaimed as he ran to a small device that Vortex couldn’t quite recognize. 

He started running when Bombshell turned on the device, a metallic *whrrrr* escaping from it.

At the noise, Vortex began running around the room, not knowing if Bombshell was just pulling his leg or actually going to hurt him. As he ran, Bombshell was close behind, not slowing down. He ran between two tables that seemed safe.

An evil laugh filled his audials as Vortex found himself in a dead end, cornered by the two tables that he just noticed were mounted to the ground. He looked back to see how Bombshell had progressed, and he was standing at the only way of escape, his entire figure a black silhouette against the white light. 

He was finally able to get a glimpse of the device, it's noise becoming louder and louder. Then, he saw it. A mini saw blade.

Vortex tried to grab something behind him, only able to grasp the walls, and he shrunk into his frame as Bombshell was already hovering over him. He brought the saw blade to the wall, and it made a disgusting churn as the powerful blade scraped and cut through the wall, white dust shooting out everywhere as he was dragging it down slowly. Vortex cringed at the noise, and feared what Bombshell was going to do next.

Is he going to scrap my paint? Cut my servo? What?!

Bombshell turned off the blade, and the dust flying in the air slowly faded as he inched closer to his audial.

“You wanna try another trick? I'll show you some of mine… ” Bombshell whispered as he backed off and looked at Vortex, his spark beating a mile an second.

Vortex was silent for a bit, then he realized that Bombshell was expecting his question to be answered.

“Uh, n-no.” He muttered, his vocalizer slightly glitching out at the utter fear that encased his entire frame. Was he sparing him?

“That's what I thought, little buddy. Now,” he said as he removed his servos from the wall, and walked back to the main lab area nonchalantly. Vortex was left lying against the wall, still tense at the situation.

“Where did we leave off?”

* * *

 

“Scraaaap.” Reflector moaned as he sat up on the slab, having just recharged from his high from energon.

“What the- “he muttered as he looked around to see that he was in a different hab suite than his own. This one was way more organized, little color coded notes pasted neatly on the walls, and books arranged accordingly on the desk. Then, he saw him.

“Just when I thought I had just interfaced with someone…”

“T-that's disgusting. I'm only waiting for you so we can head over to Megatron's, but I suppose I can just go by myself.” Hook flushed as he stood from the chair abruptly, making Reflector fret. If Hook makes a good impression on Megatron, then he'll probably just get rid of him!

“No! Ahem, no, please. Sorry, I'll go with you.” he rushed as he got up from the slab and ran to his side. His helm pounded, and he groaned in pain.

Hook looked away distastefully, and walked out of the hab suite. Reflector followed him hastily, he's some sort of speedwalker, forcing Reflector into an awkward jog/walk.

“Hey, um, thanks for taking me to your hab suite. I know it's pretty... embarrassing that you have to drag me around while I was drunk.” Reflector said, trying to patch things up. Of course he was doing this so he won't say anything about the whole bar situation to Megatron, but he had never realized before that Hook was going to be working with him for... a long time. And, it would be nice to finally have a friend, even if Hook wasn't entirely sure of it.

Hook was quiet for a bit, trying to understand the bot's motives for the comment.

“Of course. I couldn't just leave you there, not after you offered me that job.” He had an opportunity to thank him directly, but kept to himself. His actions spoke louder than anything he could have said. Reflector noticed this, and was flattered anyway.

They walked in silence until they made it to Megatron's office, and Reflector straightened his back puffed his chest plate, matching Hook's already straight posture.

“Megatron! Good to see you, I found a bot for the O.B.A excavation Earth team!” He puckered as he walked in, invitingly. Megatron gave him a glance and looked back at the visual monitor.

“Good afternoon, Lord Megatron. I am Hook and I request to be added to the team as their leader. I pose great leading skills and strive for perfection. I will become an asset to the team once I join.” Hook convinced, standing at attention to his superior, to which Megatron looked on, seemingly impressed.

“Hook, thank you for volunteering. You sound perfect for the position. Better than Reflector.” He said as he looked at him, Reflector sinking into his frame in embarrassment.

“I think- “ Reflector protested before he was interrupted by other bots walking into the office.

“Lord Megatron, sorry to intrude, but we have news regarding the space bridge.” Bombshell introduced as he poked his head out.

“Come in.” Megatron commanded as he began to formulate an idea.

“Okay, guys, you can come in. Long Haul, Crankcase, Vortex, and I have successfully created a space bridge that can teleport a certain amount of bots to coordinates far away, places like Luna 1, and Autobot territory.” Bombshell explained, and was about to elaborate until he saw Megatron’s servo raise in the air.

“Save it, you'll be needing to explain that to the bots in front of you, not me.” Megatron explained, throwing the other bot off guard.

“And why is that?” Bombshell questioned, not realizing that it came across rudely.

“Why? Because this is your future, Bombshell. You want to become an esteemed scientist? This is your start. You, along with your crew, will be added to the O.B.A Earth excavation team.” Megatron announced to the entirety of the room, which was dead silent. Some of them have never even met each other. They awkwardly looked at each other, then back at Megatron, who seemed ecstatic.

“Get acquainted, I'll send Soundwave to alert you for your departure. Head over to the room I’m assigning to you.”

Oh, where's a bar when you need one…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? Do you have a favorite character already? This chapter took a lot of revisions, but it ended up being really well put together, I think. Thanks for reading, and see you in the next chapter!


	5. An Adventure Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O.B.A. and Earth One begin their adventure.

“Exit my office. Now.” Megatron commanded as everyone scrambled to the door, pushing and shoving along the way. Soundwave waited for them to all leave before excusing himself, and escorting the bots to the corridor that had a label next to it.

O.B.A. EARTH EXCAVATION TEAM

“What does O.B.A. even stand for, anyway?” Reflector asked, despite being the first Decepticon to have joined the team.

“Operation Blockade.” Soundwave said robotically as he opened the door with a four-digit code.

A collective “Oh.” was shared throughout the entire team as they all stepped inside. It was actually pretty small, being that they will be traveling to Earth soon, so this was just a temporary living quarters.

Soundwave stepped inside, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Megatron will expect only the best from you. In a few days, you will have enough training in order to properly function and understand your purpose on your journey. Let me remind you of your primary objective: Find a way to sabotage whatever the Autobots are doing, or as they might call themselves, Earth One. After some time, Megatron will give the command to exterminate them, and when you return you will all be rewarded greatly. Now, I will return in an hour to start off with the basic training: Earth’s Gravity. Be ready by then.” Soundwave ended as he marched out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The room had a heavy awkwardness that hung over them, causing uncomfortable shifting to take place. Bombshell felt so restless, he wanted to tell everyone about the space bridge.

“Okay everyone, hi, I'm Bombshell. Trust me, you won't want to forget it. I'm the genius that created the space bridge. Any questions?” He asked, looking at the group in front of him. They all stood silent for a bit, and Bombshell looked at Vortex, hoping he could stir something within the crowd. 

Vortex raised a servo sluggishly, and Bombshell perked up.

“Yes?”

“What's the most dangerous place you could teleport us to?” He asked curiously. It was then that the Reflector and Hook realized they had no idea who this bot was. 

Reflector looked at Hook, who just shrugged unknowingly. Reflector raised his servo urgently, and started waving it fiercely.

“One second, I actually don't know the answer, but there is one way to find out. Let's head to the laboratory!” He said excitedly as he opened the door, and the bots hesitantly walked out. 

Bombshell opened the door to the lab, and the Reflector studied every piece of information be could possibly obtain. He looked at test tubes and visual monitors, awed by a beauty he didn't understand. Not that he really cared to understand it, he just chose not to. He'd rather be watching a dexi-squirrel than reading some textbook.

Hook just followed the scientist everywhere he went, not really caring about anything that was in the laboratory.

“This puppy right here, is my prized possession. The actual space bridge itself.” Bombshell pressed a tiny green switch on a face pad, and the device began expanding, an oddly shaped circle beginning to form the entrance. Particles began flying everywhere, a light surface began forming, a light purple hue painting everyone's features. 

As the seemingly 2-D structure began turning on, Bombshell was pulling up locations on the visual monitors, and little alerts began popping up when he scrolled over certain planets. He searched up CODE RED on the monitor, and a huge planet showed up, with dozens of tiny moons decorating it. The screen tinted red, signaling danger.

“So, to answer your question Vortex, this would be the most dangerous planet to warp to.” Bombshell clicked on the planet, and statistics began showing up on the screen, and Bombshell squinted to see them.

“Yup. Raydon 342. And it's moons, Urpa, Urpa 2, Urpa 3, Upra 4… ” He read aloud, thinking that everyone still had their attention on him. But, without him noticing, Crankcase and Long Haul were conducting their own class, explaining how the space bridge worked to Reflector and Hook.

“That, in turn, closes the bridge, ready to be used again. Once it finishes closing, then we are left with a tiny, black box. It's about… this big.” Crankcase finished as he lifted both his servos and extended his digits.

“Interesting, how you've managed to compact it into a portable size. And, I suppose, there are two copies of this black box once the portal closes?” Hook questioned, assuming he knew how it worked perfectly.

“Yes! But I didn't come up with the design, Long Haul did, and Bombshell put it to work.” He said looking over at Long Haul, who was surprised at the complement. He had told Crankcase he didn't want to lecture anybody on that, he wasn't the best public speaker. Even if he was just talking to two bots.

“Um, yes. It was quite the challenge but… ” He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

The conversation grew awkward, and Vortex had a question bubbling in his spark. This was the perfect moment to ask.

“How do you activate this thing?” He asked as he waltzed over to the button pad, admiring it.

“I’m glad you asked Vortex!” Bombshell interrupted, as he walked back towards the group, only slightly annoyed after just talking to himself for a few minutes.

“The switch, Vortex found himself next to, will light up once the space bridge recognizes something inside of it. This prevents the possible encounter of an enemy traveling through this space bridge. So, this is the perfect time to step inside and have the space bridge analyze and record your data!” Bombshell said as he pushed Vortex into the machine and pressed a button on the pad.

The machine lit up green, then returned to the purple it once was.

Vortex jumped out, venting air out rapidly.

“W-what the frag was that for?!” He spoke in a glitched manner, having the spark seemingly sucked out of him.

“Now, the machine has his spark signature, and can send him to Luna 1 with a press of a button. The neat thing about this is that it doesn't have to be one at a time.” Bombshell added, looking over to the team in an inviting manner.

“Come on, in you go!” He ushered as he pushed them all inside. He told Vortex to press the light blue button, and let the space bridge work it’s magic.

Bombshell walked inside himself, and gave Vortex a thumbs up. He pressed the button and the machine lit up green once again, this time taking a bit longer to memorize all the different spark signatures. A few minutes passed, and Vortex was getting pretty bored. He looked at the monitor, and noticed that a location was set in place. He could totally send them to a planet already if he wanted to. Which he did. But he would be stranded here to do nothing, so he decided against it.

Finally, the space bridge lit up purple, and opened up, revealing the exhausted bots inside. An idea fluttered to life in his spark.

“Oh. Hey Vortex.” Bombshell waved as he saw Vortex walk inside the machine, unsuspecting. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” He asked as he saw Vortex with the button pad in his hand.

“The space bridge already has your time signature, little dude.” Bombshell told Vortex, who did nothing at first. Then he realized.

“Wait, you’re going to- Vortex!!” He yelled as he reached out to grab the control panel out of his servos. It was too late; however, Votex had pressed the blinking red button. The O.B.A. was sent to a far away planet in a blink of an optic.

 

* * *

 

“Prowl, I have assigned to you the Calabi-Yau, a starship that should serve you well in your travels. Jetfire should be familiar with it.” Optimus Prime began, as they both walked over to the deck, where the starship will be waiting for their arrival. It was late, and the cold was washing over the planet like a misty fog. It was surprisingly comforting, Prowl found. He knew he would miss it.

“Thank you Optimus. Jetfire has told me about his adventures with this particular starship.” Prowl mentioned as the starship grew bigger as they got closer. That’s when they finally noticed that the lights appeared to be on already.

“The lights are on... Do you think that’s… ” Prowl began, squinting to see who was inside. Suddenly, he got a radio transmission on his personal frequency, to which he picked up.

“Prowl? Is that you? And Optimus?” Prowl picked up from Jetfire’s radio frequency.

“Yes, are you the one on starship?” He responded, trying not to act surprised, looking back at Prime.

“It was Jetfire. He’s the one inside the starship.” He told Prime, who looked pleased at his eagerness.

“Of course. Prowl, you let me know when you are ready to leave, as I’m sure you will be soon. I will be in my office if you need anything.” Prime dismissed as he transformed and drove away, Prowl only having the chance to wave goodbye.

“Yes, I’m on the ship, just checking her. I thought I saw something in here earlier but I think I’m just worked up about this whole space travel thing. Anyway, I haven't seen her a while and I... just wanted to familiarize myself before the crew got on as well, if you know what I mean. I’ll be getting off soon, so don’t worry. Just a check to see if everything is up and running properly.” Jetfire explained as he ended the radio transmission.

“Okay, thank you, Jetfire.” Prowl said as he stared at the starship, gawking at it’s utter beauty. This’ll be in space soon. The thought nearly terrified him. Maybe nights alone wasn’t the best option for Prowl right now, but it was definitely what he preferred.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team was trying to find things to pack up for the trip, as they found out the starship was actually pretty big. Seaspray had a blast organizing his tools that he would use when he got to the oceans of Earth, eager to see them in their beauty. He was especially curious about a sea he had seen that was called the “Red Sea.” He was also occupying his time by reading all about the sea creatures, as they were very different from the land animals that lived there, so he read. Or whatever he could read. On Cybertron, there really wasn’t any information about the lifeforms inhabiting Earth, just vague information that could be interpreted as anything. He was hoping to ask Jetfire to help him with the studies he would be conducting on Earth about the lifeforms, maybe he could help him inform Cybertronians about how amazing Earth is. He was happily curled up in a chair with a visual tablet reading all he could before the trip.

In the bar, Hot Rod found himself drinking energon and saying goodbye to some friends he had barely knew, even forgetting their names. The exchanges were very cheerful, absolutely no sorrow whatsoever. He was laughing and enjoying the company of very welcoming bots, and really having a good time. He had one last drink before heading back to the hab suite. He really didn’t have anyone important to say goodbye too, having just entered the Autobots. That meant he didn’t have anything sentimental to take with him either. He wished that he had someone here who would miss him, or at least think about him. He tried not to think about it too much, and ended up just watching a bot on the visual screen win another race, wishing it could be him out there on the track. 

Smokescreen was conversing with different bots about his departure, to which they all bid him goodbye and good luck. He felt as though they were very hollow in meaning, but thanked them anyway. He was feeling pretty uneasy about the travel, in all honesty. It never really dawned on him that they might be gone for years on Earth, and might even come back unsuccessful. All the more reason to try to get the most out of whatever was going to happen to them. He hoped something good would come out of this, but he really didn’t know what. He spent his time talking to bots he didn’t even know, just trying to gather information, the thing he did best. He knew there was no point, he would forget who these bots were by the time he got back, but it was like second nature. After awhile of thinking it over, he realized that he had no idea what he would do once he got on the starship.

After a run in with Hot Rod, Warpath had a stern conversation with him, scolding the younger bot about how he was getting old and that he would have to be careful around him. Hot Rod agreed, surprisingly, but Warpath didn’t take his word for it. He began to understand that Hot Rod just won’t ever change. He decided to talk with Optimus about the trip, as Warpath has never done anything like this before, despite his very decorated career as an Autobot. Optimus tried his best to calm the nerves of this war veteran, and told him he will enjoy this experience. There was only one bot that Warpath would miss greatly, and that would be Percepter. He was the one who helped him develop his all time favorite bomb, the napalm bomb. Because they are severely outdated, Warpath tried his best to study up with textbooks that the scientist recommended to him. He would have much difficulty with the subject, but he would have a lot of time to figure it out on the starship.

When Prowl returned, he found all the bots occupying their time doing something, only seeing two of the six in the hab suite.

He settled and vented heavily, he was surely ready to take a long trip alone through space. 

Just as this thought entered his mind, Jetfire entered and grabbed something, then left hastily. This object, in his servo, was a possession of his he had for a very long time, as old as his Calabi-Yau. Jetfire beamed with gaiety and heartache as he headed over to Brainstorms hab suite, being that this would be the last time he would see him. He had to do this. It was now, or never. 

He turned a corner and saw Brainstorm pacing outside his door, this was his chance. He vented out and headed down the corridor. As he got closer, he noticed that Brainstorm was also holding something in his servo, a cute little yellow box. Brainstorm heard his pedes as he looked back expectantly, and saw who he was thinking about.

“Jetfire. Hi. I have something for you.” Brainstorm began with a low tone in his vocalizer, as he walked toward him, a smile plastered on his features. His emotions were a mix as well, not really knowing what to feel right now. He would cry his spark out when Jetfire left, but he wasn’t gone yet.

“Oh, really? Heh, I have something for you, too.” Jetfire said as he walked toward the bot, a little embarrassed that this was their goodbye, exchanging presents they didn't know they had gotten each other. Brainstorm opened the door to his hab suite and they stepped inside. The place looked like a beautiful mess, a mess only Brainstorm understood. Jetfire had no idea his room utterly destroyed itself when Brainstorm caught drift of the news he was leaving. And Brainstorm had no idea how many sleepless nights Jetfire would have at the thought of not having him around anymore.

“Oh, it’s kinda messy-” Brainstorm struggled as he grabbed things and arranged them in a way he thought would make it better, but really just worsened it. He was having difficulty concentrating, having Jetfire, the bot that had occupied his thoughts the entire week, right here in front of him. They hung out on the daily, constantly coming up with different technologies to geek over. But this, this was different than all those times before. This may be the last time they get to see each other.

“Brainstorm, it’s perfect.” Jetfire reassured, putting the other scientist as ease instantly. They found an immense comfort in each other. Comfort that would soon fade away into despair.

“I... wanted to express something to you.” Jetfire started as he gripped his present behind his back, and looked down at the floor. For some reason, he had difficulty looking at Brainstorm in the optics at this moment.

“Do you remember when we had gone into orbit with a stray planet we knew nothing about on Calabi-Yau?” He started, looking at Brainstorm hopefully. To his pleasure, Brainstorm could muster a nod. Brainstorm had no idea where this was heading, but was already starting to tear up at the memories they had together.

“Yeah? Well, we had harvested a plant and took it back to the starship, and it had died. I remember that you had gushed over it’s beautiful yellow blue color combination, and when it died, you were disappointed that we couldn’t get it to survive on Cybertron. So, a few years later, I went back to that planet, and spent some time learning about it’s biology, and… ” Jetfire pulled the vibrant, glowing plant out into view, and Brainstorm's optics locked onto the spectacle.

“... No way… ” Brainstorm reached for it and held it in his servo, and it lightly hovered over his servo, a special little trick that was unique to this plant. It was shimmering and glowing, and Brainstorm admired it. His eyes shot up as he thought of the perfect place to put it. He rammed his servo onto his cluttered table, and smeared all the useless papers across, and they flew in the air with a *whoosh.*

Jetfire laughed at the little burst and watched him place it carefully next to a soft glowing lamp they designed together. His laughter died when he realized he would never see it again.

“I love it there... I would’ve never thought you would have done something so... amazing. In fact, I never thought anyone would do something like this... for me of all people. This is... something I will treasure forever. Thank you... so much.” His vocalizer glitched out at the end, not wanting this moment to end.

Jetfire fought the urge to just grab him and hug him tightly. He knew that the moment he did that, he wouldn’t want to let go.

“Brainstorm, stop, you’ll make me cry too.” Jetfire joked as he was also falling victim to a glitchy vocalizer. He tried to clear his own vocalizer, but to no avail. They were a miserable mess.

“Ahem, I’ve got something for you, too.” Brainstorm said as he fumbled with the yellow box in his servo. He vented as he handed the box to the other bot, who took it and looked up at Brainstorm, who seemed slightly nervous.

“I know that in our years of doing science stuff together that you like biology and all that so I... created something?” He said as he tried his best to remember what he had rehearsed earlier but his memory archives seemed to be failing him at this moment. 

Jetfire opened the box curiously, a little metal object encased with a plastic wrapping. He removed it, and it revealed a little replica of the Calabi-Yau, shiny and shimmering. Jetfire smiled to himself at the little gift, it was so cute and lovely.

“Cali? You can come out now.” Brainstorm said, and the little ship vibrated in Jetfire’s servo. It wiggled until it finally transformed into a little Autobot that floated around Brainstorm, and landed on his shoulder.

“Cali, this is Jetfire. He’ll take care of you now.” Brainstorm said as ‘Cali’ was lightly pushed into his servo, and Brainstorm handed her to Jetfire. Jetfire pressed his digit against Cali’s cheek, and she returned the gesture by leaning into his servo.

“Cali... she’s so cute. How did you do this?” Jetfire asked as he looked back at Brainstorm, who was basking in the cuteness of the situation. 

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. Anything for you, really. I’m surprised at myself, as well.” He said as he laughed awkwardly, looking back at Cali, who seemed happy.

“Well, I love her. I’ll take good care of her. You really went out of your way-” He said as Cali transformed and started flying around the room, leaving the pair alone.

“No, no. I’ve been working on this for a long time and... it’s totally worth it.” Brainstorm said as he looked back at Jetfire, optics filled with happiness at his reaction. Jetfire had something he wanted off his chest, something he should have expressed long before.

“Brainstorm, you have been a blessing from Primus himself. You were the only one that understood me, and you were willing to be there when everyone else was to scared to. Scared to lose their life, or their reputation. I know that it must’ve been hard to get used to me, but I’m so grateful that you did. You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me. Nothing will surpass what we have, even if you think different. Thank you, for being the stupid scientist that you are.” He ended, giving Brainstorm a longing gaze, trying his best not to cry. He really was going to miss this idiot.

“Aw, your sugar coating it. That’s too sweet. Yeah... ” Brainstorm said, the glitching vocalizer coming back to surprise him. He leaned in and hugged his amica endurae, who eagerly returned the gesture. The two stood like this for a long while, just enjoying the embrace. Jetfire managed to tear up without Brainstorm noticing. The last thing he wanted was to seem sad in front of him, knowing the Brainstorm would feel bad about it later. 

“So, this is goodbye. See you at in lab tomorrow.” He said, hoping this would help them cope with the loss. Something they used to tell eachother at the end of every day.

“Yeah…” Brainstorm said, recalling those simpler times.

“See you in the lab.”

Jetfire turned and walked out, hearing the door shut behind him, and a little Cali hovering next to him. She seemed to be crying too.

“Cheer up little lady, we’ll be back. I promise.” He promised, hoping he could keep it.

A few moments later, he found that as he entered the Earth One hab suite that the entire team found themselves back there already. Prowl saw him and stood up, allowing Jetfire to take his seat.

“Now that we have everyone here, we can finally get on the starship and begin takeoff.” He addressed as everyone was listening intently. Prowl put out a frequency for Optimus Prime to receive, to which he did.

“Optimus, we are ready.” 

“That is great to hear Prowl. Get Earth One to the launch pad, and make sure they’ve brought everything they need to. I’ll be waiting by the launch pad.” Optimus said as he ended the transmission.

Prowl looked back at his team, getting ready to address them.

“Earth One, you have made an immense sacrifice by leaving this planet to the unknown. A dangerous journey that may even result in the death of several of us. But you all stood tall in the face of danger, and made it clear that this mission will not go without victory. I have a tremendous amount of faith that this will be what the future of Autobots look like. We are the founding fathers of a new generation to come, something not just any bot can do.” He assured, giving everyone determined look in his optics. 

As he spoke, he realized how important this moment was. This was their departure from Cybertron, the only home they’ve ever known. He wanted to make it clear that they will find solace in each other once they arrive at Earth.

“It may seem difficult now, but I can assure you, these times will become easier. We will bond together as a team, and find comfort with one another.” He ended, looking back at his team, who seemed to feel just a little better. Other than Warpath giving a side glance to Hot Rod, Jetfire, Seaspray, and Smokescreen. Well, this was going to take longer than it originally seemed.

“Now, lets board this starship, and sail the universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the adventure begins! Thank you guys for taking the time to read this chapter and enjoy this book. See you in the next chapter!


	6. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O.B.A. gets seperated on a strange planet.

*zaaaap!!* 

“Don’t press the button- Oh scrap!” Bombshell yelled as he found that they were on an entirely different planet. The smell of the air was nearly choking the crew. They were all stumbling and blinking their optics in confusion. 

Hook tried not to be bothered by all the unidentified dust sediments that were currently encasing his frame and filling his vents. He stiffly looked at the crew, who were also venting harshly due to the strange atmosphere.

“Is everyone alright?” He asked, knowing very well that he was not alright. But maybe that was just the O.C.D. kicking in.

“It must be a weird acid vaporizing from the craters trying to regain equilibrium in the air.” Bombshell explained as he tried to finish analyzing the air to check its composition. He noticed that the ground was distorting, probably from the acid rising from the ground.

“What craters?” Crankcase asked as he looked at the ground in confusion. Long Haul looked at Bombshell in question as well. It was strange...they were both standing on a crater.

“You’re on top of one.” Bombshell said annoyingly, thinking that this was a weird way to mess around with him.

“It's grass.” Long Haul said, grabbing a fist full if red sand, and looking back a Bombshell. He started back, dumbfounded. There was not a single sign of plant life for miles.

“And, look, an Earth lifeform! Run away!” Crankcase whispered as he ran with Long Haul away to...somewhere.

“A human? Wait- where are you going?” Vortex called to them as they ran, and he began looking for the lifeforms as well. Instead, he spotted a large crater, catching his interest.

He walked over to it and decided to stare right down the hole. He started coughing through his vents.

“Ugh, what is in the air?” He complained as he tried to clean his vents.

“Okay, hold on as I check what the percentage of...” He stopped in the middle of the air scan, interrupted by a...flying pterodactyl? It was soaring in the distance as he traveled quickly towards them. How can life be sustained on a planet with all this acid?

Vortex, wide-optics looking around, dropped the control panel in shock, and started running.

“W-what the-!!” Vortex shrieked, only to be stopped by Bombshell. He grabbed his servo, causing Vortex to whip his head in his direction in desperation. There was a pterodactyl in the air nose-diving toward them!

“Hey, you got us in this situation, now you have to get us out. Actually, you probably can’t. Yeah, scratch that-” He started correcting as he began rethinking his come back.

“Not sure if your optics are working correctly right now, but that thing is coming toward us!! Let me go!” He yelled as he squirmed under his grasp. He yanked his servo out and started running, finding that Bombshell was right next to him.

“Okay, so here’s what we can do,” Bombshell started as he nonchalantly began counting with his fingers. Vortex kept running and looking back to see how the pterodactyl was progressing...with an apparently increasing speed. 

Red dust from the ground came floating up as they ran, hopefully blinding the creature in the sky. Maybe he doesn’t eat mechanicals?

“We can hide in a cave and try to bore it so it flies away, we can try to kill it whilst it’s flying, I can choke it out with the acid gas, we can run it into the ground, we can-”

“Oh my Primus shut up. There, a cave.” Vortex interrupted as he pointed and started running towards the cave.

“Okay, option one. That’s all you had to say.” Bombshell pouted as they settled into the red-brown ground formation. Vortex vented heavily, letting himself slide down the wall in exasperation. There was an awkward gust of wind that flew in, spewing in red sand into the cave.

“You look tired. ‘Bet your spark. I wouldn’t be on the edge of ascending to the afterspark if you hadn’t teleported us to...Raydon 343!? Vortex why would you-” Bombshell exclaimed, looking at a small monitor built into his arm worryingly. But Vortex was quick on the defense.

“Look, I’m not a scientist of any sort, how was I supposed to know-” He tried to explain, only to be interrupted by a loud stomp by the other. This caused him to look at Bombshell, confused by his furiated reaction. He had made a terrible mistake.

“That’s the problem: you don’t know. What were you thinking?!” The scientist said sharply, quickly waving his arms up dismissively. He looked out the tunnel towards the outside, pissed off at Vortex. Then he noticed something.

“Hey, you saw those craters earlier, right? ‘And that pterodactyl?” He said, trying to make sense of the sight in front of him.

“Yeah? So what?” Vortex replied dryly, looking into the tunnel in opposition. He was tapping his foot impatiently, then began becoming restless at the fact Bombshell was silent. He gave into temptation as he turned his frame around and looked out, only to see…

Snow?

The craters disappeared, and the soil was no longer red. In fact, the cave they were in, was completely metal?!

“Bombshell, what the frag is this?” Vortex spoke, looking at the air that blew out of his mouth. Suddenly, the temperature seemed to drop drastically, causing him to shiver instantly. His frame automatically enabled it’s heating protocols, which had a slow start up.

“Wow! The temperature has dropped all the way to the negatives in 5.2 seconds! My thermometer is at an all time low. In fact, this is the same temperature as it is on…” Bombshell questioned as he looked on, confused by the change. 

“Cybertron… “ Vortex finished, looking at Bombshell for answers.

“Hm… “ Bombshell began pacing the cave, back and forth. Vortex waited for him as his systems began feeling a comfortable warmth.

“Okay. Hypothesis time. This acid that we were affected by when we first got here… It’s got hallucinogenic properties. Yup, my sensors just picked it up. Not sure why both see Cybertron, but there must be a way to where this off… ” Bombshell contemplated, bringing his servo to his chin, looking at the snow whilst pondering.

“Like a game?” Vortex asked, raising his helm in question. Bombshell looked back at him, and got lost in a train of thought.

“Yeah, guess you could think of it that way…” He settles for a moment, just thinking. He was the smart one. He should know what to do.

“Um, ‘you okay?” Votex said, looking at Bombshell in the optics, trying to read his expression. He seemed… lost.

“Ah… yes. Just fine. I’ve just never… well… it’s nothing. Oh, hold on. I’m getting a transmission.” He said as he held his audial with his servo. Vortex looked on, curiously.

“Bombshell? Where are you? Where is the space bridge?” Soundwaves voice boomed in his audial, causing him to lower the volume.

“Oh, hey, good to see- hear you Soundy. It’s all good. We’re all alright. Right guys?” Bombshell looked back and realized that none of the crew was with him, only Vortex, who looked at him like he was crazy.

“Oh, um, never mind that-” He tried to recover quickly, scratching his helm nervously.

“That is not what I asked. Where are you?” Soundwave pushed, awaiting the scientist response.

“Oh, um, I… “ He looked at Vortex, who looked right back at him. He could tell the truth, or take the blame.

“Bombshell, answer the question.” Shockwave pressed, leaving Bombshell on his pedes. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“It was my mistake-”

“That does not matter. Megatron wants you and your “team” on Earth or you’re dead, understand?”

“Wait, you’re telling me that he doesn’t care if we die here?”

“Alert me when you arrive on Earth. If I don’t receive a transmission within the next five days from you, the mission will be considered a failure, and you will not be let back on Cybertron. Good-bye.” Shockwave ended the transmission, and left Bombshell speechless.

“Megatron… he- “ Bombshell started, not wanting the words to come out of his vocalizer. 

“Doesn’t care? Shocker.” Vortex said as he stood up, and dusted his frame of snow.

“I suggest, instead of just staying here and crying about Megatron, that we actually try to find a way to get rid of this weird acid drug thing.” Vortex said as he walked out of the cave to the outside, where the pterodactyl was no longer...existent, to his relief.

Bombshell shook off the feeling of dread and walked along with Vortex, who was pleased he was able to help the scientist. As Bombshell was regaining his consciousness, he remembered something.

“Say, where are Crankcase, Long Haul, and Hook?”

 

* * *

“Eaaaarth Ooone! This is your charismatic captain speaking, letting you know that we will be having a smooth sail through the galaxy today on the lovely Calabi-Yau! Please, enjoy your stay, and don’t forget to drink energon!” Hot Rod announced to the entirety of the ship, pleased with the fact that everyone could hear him. In the distance, Prowl can be heard questioning the younger bot.

“Hot Rod, how did you-” And just like that, the broadcast to the ship ended. Seaspray and Jetfire lightly laughed at the absurdity of the situation and went back to work. 

It was all smiles on with the Earth One crew. Everyone seemed to enjoy the quiet and the gentle shifts of the starship. It was easy to get used to. The large space of the ship didn't scare anyone.

But, as it turns out, a big ship means that it gets lonely pretty quickly. Warpath actually wanted to be around the others, given he was reading a book with his audials off. But it was still progress of a sort. He simply liked the company, in a sense. Except Hot Rod’s. He could go frag himself.

Jetfire and Seaspray had been looking at a visual book, looking at the scarce information it had about Earth.

“So this, this is called a sea creature. They have an estimated hundreds of species under this category.” Seaspray told Jetfire, explaining with a simple drawing of what they predicted a fish would look like.

“Wow, that’s… amazing! And how were they able to make such an accurate estimate?” Jetfire asked, excited he was the one being taught for once. 

He usually just stuck to the plantea of a planet, being that was his field of research and expertise. However, this was a completely a different case. This was the animal, a complicated subject on Cybertron that required millenias of experimentation and scientific breakthroughs to understand. But with there being virtually no information on Earth lifeforms, it made it easy for Seaspray to learn all there was. All that they had at least.

“Well, this was actually quite the stretch based on loose assumptions. But I’m hoping that I… we… could… “ He failed to finish what he wanted to say, not wanting to put any pressure on the other.

Jetfire looked on at him in confusion. What does he want to do?

“Well, never mind that. Maybe… update the information we have on Earth. Just a little something we could do.” He said, not realizing that he had said what he had previously tried to. He looked slightly shocked at himself, but kept a straight face. He looked nervously at Jetfire, hoping that he hadn’t forced him into this.

“That would be quite the task! Difficult, but definitely possible.” The scientist said, placing a servo to his chin in wonder. There was a slight complication, however.

“That’s not really what I specialize in, but I think I could make it work-” He said hopefully, only to be interrupted by the other bot.

“Oh, if you can’t do it, it’s okay, I understand completely-” Seaspray said hastily, knowing that he had just been rejected. He tried to find himself out of the situation before he was now being the one cut off.

“Hold on now, who said I couldn’t do it?” Jetfire challenged, looking at Seaspray with a slight smirk. Seaspray didn’t think anything of it, and answered his question bluntly.

“Well, it’s like you said, it’s not what you specialize in. Clearly, you aren’t prepared for this type of study. But don’t worry, I am capable of conducting the research and analyzing on my own.” He said as he scrolled on the visual tablet, looking for something to read about.

“Oh really? You’re telling me you know exactly how all the equipment in the laboratory works?” Jetfire said, trying to tease the bot who was preoccupied with the tablet.

“Um, yes.” Seaspray added quickly, thinking this would rush him out of the conversation faster. He never realized how blunt he was being with the jet. One: He was ignoring Jetfire. Two: He had just spewed a bunch of insults at him without even realizing. And three: He had the nerve to say he knew the lab just as well as he did! This was officially the worst conversation he had with the scientist, who seemed to enjoy watching him squirm at the pressure.

“I-I need to do something.” Seaspray said as he excused himself from the conversation, not intending to return to it anytime soon. Jetfire laughed and vented cheerfully. He decided that he would hang out in the lab often, just to make sure he could help out Seaspray with the equipment and make sure he was correctly recording the data.

He looked over and saw Warpath reading a book. The fundamentals of… the cryoshell? He was about to question the bot until Hot Rod came bursting in.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt your… nothing, I suppose, but we have just received a radio transmission.” He said looking at Jetfire, who rose quickly and they both ran to the headquarters.

“What’s this about, Prowl?” Jetfire questioned, looking at Prowl, who was about to accept the transmission. Smokescreen was leaning over a button pad to try to read the information the the screen.

“It’s a live transmission from an unidentified source. Let’s find out what it is.” Smokescreen said as he pressed a button, and the screen flashed, showing some audio visuals. Prowl seemed to be surprised by the action but composed quickly.

“Megatron! This is Crankcase, and I’m with Long Haul! We have just arrived on Earth...so far, there are multiple lifeforms where we teleported. We did lose the rest of the O.B.A. team, but we are currently looking for them. What do you suggest we do?”

Prowl stood silent at the transmission, expecting a plea for help from lifeforms native to their planet. Instead, he stumbled upon some very valuable information. 

Smokescreen looked pleased by the situation, and put a servo to his chin in thought. 

Upon comprehending the information, he looked back at Hot Rod and Jetfire, who looked equally as flabbergasted as Prowl did. Hot Rod shrugged as he looked on to see what Prowl would say. 

If the Decepticons were transmitting to them, then now is the best opportunity to get as much information as possible.

“Why are you on Earth?” Smokescreen questioned, not even attempting to fake a Megatron impression. He wanted to try to get the most he could from this interaction, but he really couldn't do much at the sheer randomness of the encounter. He did what he could.

“Because you said we need to- wait, who is this?” Crankcase asked, looking over at Long Haul in confusion. Long Haul vented at the realization.

“This is the Calabi-Yau… Smokescreen speaking.” a voice emitted in Crankcase's audials, causing him to cringe at his mistake.

“Oh, uh… “He looked at Long Haul and shrugged. He simply turned away in shame.

“Nevermind.” He ended the transmission hastily and vented.

“Oh scrap.” He said as his shoulders drooped in dismay. He just leaked information to the Autobots! The Earth One team of all people!

“Why didn’t you wait for Megatron’s response?” Long Haul questioned as he thought to himself how much of an idiot Crankcase was. He looked around for a spot to hide, they were still out in the open despite trying to find a spot to hide earlier. Cars rode and lifeforms walked along the sidewalks, and they weren't exactly ‘hidden.’

“Why would I do that? Look, I was excited and I just-” He tried to make sense of the situation to Long Haul, who was simply just mad at his shot of having a purpose just flew out the window. Now he was just pissed off.

“Just what?” He mocked, looking at Crankcase, who seemed hurt.

“It was a dumb mistake, okay? Cut me some fragging slack for Primus sake. You’re not perfect Long Haul, and you know it.” He said in a rush, slightly annoyed by the sudden sass coming from his friend.

“Hey, at least I didn’t rat out the entire mission to our rivals, who we are supposed to kill when we get to Earth. No, no. I’m much worse. Surely.” He added sarcastically as he began walking away, trying to find something better to do.

“Where do you think you’re going? You think you can walk away, just like that?” He yelled as he stood tall where he stood, hoping he would at least turn back.

“Yeah.” Long Haul said nonchalantly as he kept walking at the slow pace.

“Well, you thought wrong.” Crankcase countered as he ran toward him. Long Haul heard his pedes against the gravel and braced for the impact. 

He tackled him, and they both plumated against the street gravel, crushing cars in the process. Crankcase cringed at the noise, and helped Long Haul up, who absentmindedly accepted his servo. He was also on edge after having just caused destruction to street. Humans looked up at them and began screaming and running away. 

One was even shooting at Long Haul with a pistol, who simply ignored it and addressed Crankcase.

“We need to leave, now.” He said as he grabbed his servo and started running to a vanish point. If he could find one.

“Right, okay. That makes a lot of sense and all, but what about that?! Permission to engage the humans?!” He exclaimed as he pointed to a helicopter that was floating above them, the noise deafening their audials.

“Uh, that… we run from.” Long Haul said as he let go of Crankcase’s servo and started running, tiptoeing through cars that were racing by. 

“Sound like a plan- Ack!” He yelped as he bit his lip to try to mute his vocalizer, having just been the target of a large machine gun aimed at his shoulder. Long Haul looked back, and saw the oil leaking from his shoulder.

“That looks bad-”

“Let’s just get out of here.” He ushered as they found a large structure. 

“There.” He coughed out, his visor losing color slowly. 

“O-Okay, come here.” Long Haul said as he raised Crankcase to his shoulder and started towards the large building, hoping to get away from the numerous shots of fire from the increasing numbers of helicopters.

“D-do you think- I mean, ar-are you okay?” Long Haul stuttered, never having this much action in his life before. His best friend just got shot in the shoulder and was bleeding excessively, and all he had planned was going inside a building for cover.

“Sure, yeah, just fine. I prefer… not talking… right now…” Crankcase replied weakly, thinking to himself he would be fine by the end of the day.

The helicopters began getting closer and shooting more ammunition at them, and Long Haul was becoming more stressed. Crankcase was going to die if he didn't do something right now. This wasn't like anything on Cybertron, this was the universe giving him a taste of reality. If he dies now, what would he do? Who would he be? 

He started running, not caring the he was ramming into buildings and cars at the moment. He needed Crankcase to be saved from the bullets, and that building was the only one that was large enough to protect him.

As he approached it, he realized. How would he get inside? An idea popped into his head, and he knew he would regret this later.

He let Crankcase down gently, and handed him a long yellow car that he found motionless on the curb.

“Protect yourself.” He instructed as he crossed his arms and rammed into the wall of the building with a loud crash.

 

* * *

“Hey, Bombshell?” Vortex started as they walked to a structure in the distance, cold air hitting their frames softly.

“Yeah? What’s up, little buddy? Something bothering ‘ya?” He replied, unaware of where this conversation was heading. After some time, Vortex stayed silent. Maybe he was nervous about the hallucinogenic acid?

“Hey, if you think this acid will have long term effects-”

“Why did you tell Soundwave that you did it?” He said, pushing it out of his vocalizer. Bombshell looked away, thinking about his response.

“Well? You could’ve just… blamed me. That wouldn’t have been difficult. We all know how hard you work to keep your impression with Megatron good. That would ruin everything you worked so hard for… Why’d you do it?” Vortex pressured, wanting an honest response. He needed to know why he would put his entire life’s work on the line, for him of all people.

“I understand that… “ He said, avoiding answering the question at hand. Vortex became restless. What was he hiding? 

“Tell me.”

“Look, I don’t mean to offend you or anything but, I just-”

“Just tell me already for Primus sake.” He rolled his helm, becoming annoyed by the conversation. 

“I didn’t want anything to happen to you. There, that’s it. I knew Megatron would… just… kill you.” Bombshell said, not wanting to finish the thought, but knowing that Vortex needed the truth. He regretted opening up, because as soon as he finished speaking, Vortex tensed up. This wasn't fun and games anymore.

He was silent, stunned by the bluntness. Vortex knew it was coming, but he wasn’t expecting that response. He didn’t even know what he wanted to hear.

“Don’t worry, Vortex. I won’t let him do anything like that. I’ll take care of you. You aren’t just another bot that he can dispose of. You’re special.” Bombshell reassured, placing a servo on his shoulder. Vortex never looked back at him, but he really did feel a bit better. 

They approached the building after some time, and looked at the frosty door. It looked like it had been there for centuries, just rotting in the cold.

“Do we just… open it?” Bombshell asked, examining the door with a picky optic. It had strange symbols on it, and he tried to comprehend them.

“Um, yeah? What else would we do?” Vortex said as he walked to the building and checked it out. It looked like it had some sort of cybertronian medical resort, with silvery accents adorning it.

“Some sort of medic facility?” Vortex commented, doubting himself. Bombshell stood back from the door, gaining nothing from the scribble.

“Uh, yeah. That's what it says here.” He stated, looking back at the door.

“You don't even know what language that is.” Vortex snorted, pouting and smirking to himself.

“Yeah. Yeah, I don't” Bombshell replied shamefully, and looked away abashed. He was just about to apologize when they heard a crash coming from inside the building.

“W-what was that?!” Vortex said as he stumbled away in shock. Bombshell knew this was what they were here for, and was about to pull a Vortex on this one.

“Only one way to find out.”

* * *

Why am I… here? Hook gazed at a field of emptiness, and walked through it. The rest of the O.B.A. team was nowhere in sight, and something seemed amiss. 

It was...warm. Weather that was familiar, something he used to know.

Just like… 

His pedes made a metallic sound against the floor, a long echo escaping from beneath. The inside of this planet was hollow. A defining quality of a certain planet. 

Just like… 

He saw a formation in the distance...an abandoned hab suite. He felt the red dust from before disappear from his frame. The ground began forming a strange texture, harsh rocks rising and poking at his pedes. 

The world was changing rapidly, to a place he had been before.

Just like… 

The skyscrapers and facilities began rising from the ground, erupting and erecting to sight. The deep noise of metal and the ground scraping echoed throughout the space. A star was rising in the sky, and resting happily over the planet.

Just like… home.

But Hook knew better. This was not reality. Not his reality. Not the one he belonged to.

No, his home planet was destroyed two millennia ago. There wasn't a viable explanation for this..vision he was seeing. Maybe he passed out and started dreaming? 

Regardless, he needed to find something to break this reality. He started walking down the buildings, the star's light beautifully shining through the cities. Then he realized.

It was dead silent. No one was around. It was just the mechanical whirs of the mechanisms that fill the empty space. It was less comforting this way. As he walked through, familiar structures caught his optic. But this one… this one was different. It didn't belong there. It was that of Cybertronian architecture on a completely different planet. That caught his optic.

He felt a presence telling him to go inside the structure, to which he did. It was a strong, wise voice, preceding near him. As he grew closer, he noticed some very striking features of the building.

It was a religious chapel, that of which was not common on his home planet. He got closer to it, and felt a presence high above him once again. The voice, once again.

“Inside, you will find what you are looking for, Hook.” He spoke, voice booming through his audials. He opened the door, and walked in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope to see you in the next chapter! Bye, and thank you.


	7. Making a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod and Hook have choices to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy the chapter! I've made this one quite long, just cause it would be awkward to cut it up, is its fitting this way, I hope. Enjoy!

“What was that about?” Hot Rod asked as he maneuvered through the headquarters to Prowl, who was pondering at the the strange transmission. 

“I-I’m not sure. I gather that two and more Decepticons are on Earth right now, but that’s about it. They must have communicated with the Calabi-Yau by accident.” Prowl said as he tried to trace were the transmission came from.

A scoff choked out of Smokescreens vocalizer as he chuckled to himself at the stupidly that was the Decepticons.

“Sounds like, to me, that they know we are going to Earth.” Smokescreen said as he looked at Prowl for his response.

“That just might be it. They might even know our radio frequency… “ Jetfire wondered out loud, also thinking this may be the root of the Decepticons motives.

“Well, that’s very possible. But there is no way to know for sure yet. For now, lets just continue on route.” Prowl dismissed as he proceeded to type something on the visual monitor. Hot Rod stayed in the room and began looking at all the devices, and Jetfire decided that he would take the chance to look around the ship some more.

Hot Rod had been trying to get Prowl to talk about something interesting, but he was too busy pressing buttons and turning switches. All of which seemed important, but he wanted something to do. Something fun.

“Something catch your eye Hot Rod?” Smokescreen said with a smirk on his face as he noticed the bored bot lounging around. Hot Rod seemed surprised by the sudden acknowledgement, but accepted it graciously.

“Unfortunately, no, not really.” He replied, looking back at the bot. Then, he noticed his playful demeanor. 

“Why, are you, by any chance, suggesting something?” Hot Rod said with an excited smile plastered on his face.

“Well, the details are quite intimate and should be discussed in secrecy. I suggest we move to a… safer, location” Smokescreen said as he shot a glance at Prowl, who was preoccupied with something. He looked back at Hot Rod with a side glance and motioned for the door.

“I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

He placed his servo on the cold metal door, it’s rust chipping off in the process. Hook felt a slight tingling in his servo that traveled throughout his frame, causing him to shiver, and remove his servo in shock. 

He shook off the feeling and willed himself inside, and was met with large colored glass windows decorating the ground in wonderous color assortments. 

The building was enormous, thousands of laborious hours went into the construction of this. There were statues of his native species across the sides of the walls in a warm white marble color. The poses depicted quite disturbing moments in the history of his home planet. Granted, somewhere quite sweet, but as he walked towards the end of the hall, the poses became more and more grotesque.

They were mangled mechanicals, clutching their frames, and each other. One was of an animal that was badly burnt and decapitated, leaking oil from his parts.

Hook found himself struggling to continue down the hall. His spark was beating profusely as he began recalling his memories that he had tucked away in the depths of his archive. He was venting and clutching to his frame, and walked forward slowly. He looked forward and noticed that the hall was becoming increasingly longer, but not encased in light. It was completely dark.

He turned back, and the windows were still there, illuminating his path. But when he tried to look ahead, it was completely dark. He tried to level his breathing, and continued forward.

“Hook.” A voice reverberated throughout the hall, coming from seemingly nowhere. Hook looked around and tried to catch any movement, but finding none. This was an alternate reality of some sort, so this voice may be just a part of it.

“Continue forward.” The voice demanded, ushering Hook to walk on into the darkness of the wall. He did so, a feeling of uneasiness resting in him.

“You need to forget and remember. What are you here for?” The voice guided, trying to get a response from the bot.

“I’m here to...find something.” Hook responded, not knowing where this bot was trying to get at.

“What is it you are finding?” The voice boomed, echoing in his audials.

“I’m not sure yet.” Hook said, being completely honest. He really didn’t know how he was going to escape this and return with the rest of the O.B.A. team.

“Yes you are. You just can’t admit it. Look deeper.” He pressured, trying to get Hook to realize the importance of this interaction. He has no idea who he is speaking with.

“I don’t follow.” Hook said truthfully. He didn’t give it much thought, and figured that this was actually a waste of his time. He began walking faster into the dark hall, hoping he would reach the end faster this way.

“If you choose not to find what it is you need, you will never see it. This is your only opportunity at exoneration, I hope you realize.” The voice said hastily, and suddenly, the hall seemed to stop, and Hook ran into the wall.

The voice had manipulated his environment.

Now, he realized, that he had a chance to get out of here quicker. All he had to do was cooperate with this voice. He dropped the sass, and cooperated with the being.

“My past.” He said, knowing that this was a sensitive subject that this person might like to hear about.

“What do you mean?” The voice said unknowingly, trying to push a little more of the bot. The wall moved back slowly, and Hook followed it.

“My planet.” Hook said louder, thinking this is what he was referring to. After some silence, he silently vented to himself, finding this extremely tiring.

“My people.” Again, silence.

“Myself.” He said finally, starting to realize the importance of this whole ordeal.

“Good. You’re doing good. Now, what is it you want to achieve at the end of this journey?”

“Recognition.” Hook replied, thinking of what Megatron would think when the return from the mission a success.

“Wrong. Are you even trying? Are you even thinking? This is your future, Hook. It appears that you are disregarding this conversation.” The voice dismissed, unleashed by his response.

“No. I’m not trying to, at least.” He said, worrying that he had upset the voice that was trying to help him.

“It disappoints me how unfaithful you are. If this means anything to you, I am Solomus of the Guiding Hand. I am here to help you with your path you seem to be wandering aimlessly.” Solomus commanded, and Hook was taken aback.

Solomus? Had he just insulted a God?

“I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to-” Hook recovered, stopping in his path in realization. This may be some made up reality, but this has to be some sort of sign.

“Silence. I asked you a question, and I want you to answer it truthfully. Really think. What is it you want to achieve at the end of this journey?” Solomus asked once again, and gave Hook time to consider this.

At this point, Solomus asked him what he wanted. But what did he want?

 

* * *

 

“I gave it some thought, and I was thinking that we spray paint Warpath while he recharges.” Hot Rod eagerly suggested as he was leaning toward Smokescreen. They were both sitting by a table discussing amongst themselves in a hushed manner, trying not to alarm Seaspray nearby, who was reading a book.

“I suggest we try something more… elaborate. “ Smokescreen teased as he cocked an eyebrow in an alluring manner.

“Like what?” Hot Rod asked in anticipation as he nearly fell off his seat.

“Like… “ He began, his spark bubbling with ideas. Hot Rod began contemplating as well, and he thought his previous idea had not lived up to this bots expectations.

Smokescreen rose from his seat, a began walking around the room confidently, catching the younger bots attention immediately. 

“I've got an idea… oh, this'll be good.” Smokescreen exclaimed as he began formulating how it would play out in his head.

“Yeah?” Hot Rod said as he, too, rose from his seat and looked on eagerly.

“We'll need Jetfire's lab for this.” Smokescreen said as he looked back at the bot, who gave him an excited smile.

“Okay, lets go-” Hot Rod began but before he could finish the statement, a voice interrupted them.

“Uh,“ Seaspray’s voice sounded from the corner of the room. He placed the visual tablet down and looked apprehensive at the two, who seemed to evilly conspiring.

“If you plan on using Jetfire’s lab for something, then it probably isn’t a good idea...whatever it is you’re doing.” He suggested as he looked at the two in worry, hoping his words would guide them.

“Well, I fail to see a problem, Seaspray. Think you can point it out for me?” Smokescreen began as he eyed the nervous bot in front of him. Seaspray gave it some thought before he realized that he didn’t even know what they were doing.

“Ah, um, well… “ Seaspray sunk into his frame, embarrassment coating his posture. He watched as the other bot gave him a smirk, and shook his head disapprovingly.

“Exactly.” Smokescreen said as he began walking out of the room, but then an idea popped in his head. Hot Rod had already walked out, but he stayed for just a bit longer.

“Actually,” He began, waving a finger in the air for extra exaggeration. Seaspray flinched at his sudden acknowledgement, not expecting him to come back into the room. What more did he want?

“A vital part of our conversation that you just so happened to miss, because this wasn’t your conversation to begin with, was that we were actually helping Jetfire in some experiments he was conducting without you. ‘Said something about you being a nuisance? Anyway, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be off to do something productive instead of sulking in a corner like some other bots.” He said teasingly as he walked out of the room and joined Hot Rod, who was waiting outside.

“What’d you tell him?” He said as he began walking down the hall towards the lab.

“Oh, nothing important. Let’s just say he won’t be bothering us for a while.”

 

* * *

 

“There is something more than recognition that you desire, Hook.” Solomus said as the hallway began to shorten, and a strange door the emerged from the wall with an old creak.

Hook was pleased to have finally found the end of the hall, but that question burned holes in his spark regardless.

“Your whole planet: Destroyed. Your family: Nonexistent. Your friends: Where are they?” Solomus tried to make the answer plain and simple for Hook, but he seemed to not know that he even needed something.

The door was glowing softly, and Hook walked right up to it. He knew it wasn’t going to open yet, he still had a question to answer. He placed a servo on the textured rock, and began contemplating. What did he need? What was he missing? Was there more to this mission than the praise and admiration of Megatron?

And then it hit him.

“I need… others.” He said as the door began to glow brighter in a blue tint. Hook flinched at actually being correct this time.

“Precisely. The only others you have ever had were the people of your planet, who died in the devastating terrorist attack. You need others.” Solomus repeated as he was finally getting through to him.

“Anyone I ever knew are now lightyears away, on Cybertron. There’s no possible way for me to reach anyone that actually has significance to me. I don’t have anyone.” Hook said depressingly as his servo slipped from the door.

“Yes you do. Just think. Who are you trying to get back to?”

“O.B.A.? But I don’t even know them. I just lead them.” Hook said as he began to grow confused. All the important people were on Cybertron, so why would they matter?

“You need to build relationships. Some of them may seem insufferable, but this is what is required of you emotionally in order to truly let go of the past. New relationships.”

“Ah, that makes sense. But how will I get them to see my importance? I’m just another bot to them, disposable at the very least.” Hook said as he awaited an answer to be given plainly.

“That, you must figure out on your own. But, it looks like you have more important matters to attend to. Until next time.” Solomus voice echoed for the last time as the door opened up, scraping along the edges and creating dust that flew in the air.

Hook vented as he walked through, finding a strange, small room. In the center of the room was a pedestal of sorts, an object adorning the top of it. 

He walked up to it, his pedes making a long echo. He looked up, and saw the stars, beautifully twinkling and lighting up the room. He stared at it for a while, simply enjoying the sight. Then, he came back to the room.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that object was a tiny black bag, with two rocks in it. One was white, one was black. There was nothing else. He looked around the room for more details, and saw that the wall had ancient engravings that spanned the perimeter.

“The Black Stone Will Bring Upon A Positive Command. The White Stone Will Bring Upon A Negative Command. If You Believe In The Omens, They Will Guild You. Heed This Warning, They Will Not Bring All The Answers. Do Not Test Them.”

With the strange bag, he found a door he never noticed before. As he walked up to it, it began glowing a familiar blue hue, similar to the door before. Just as he was going to open it, he heard a crash come from the inside. Hook felt it deep within, and knew exactly what it was.

 

* * *

 

“And if, theoretically, I were to throw this bomb into a room, the entirety of the room would be encased in smoke, correct?” Smokescreen hypothesised as he watched Jetfire finish sealing up a smoke bomb they just finished developing. It was a very simple design with a simple purpose, created in under 5 hours.

“Yes, theoretically. But that doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed to work proficiently. I still would need to conduct the appropriate test runs to see if it would actually-” Jetfire began whilst holding up the tiny, pill shaped bomb in his servo, examining it before he would hand it to the other bot. But before he could finish, Smokescreen had his servos tangled with his, already in an attempt to pry from his grasp.

“No, no. That would be alright for now, Jetfire. Thank you for all the help. I’ll don’t need it to work perfectly-” Smokescreen reassured as he held the bomb in his servo, admiring the cute shape of it. But Jetfire was determined to get them to work appropriately.

Hot Rod emerged from a room and held two other ones he had been creating independently, stepping into the conversation that was seemingly developing into an argument.

“Smokescreen, there is no possible way I would let you take these with you.” He said as he held one half of the smoke bomb with one servo, Smokescreen holding the other half with his servo as well.

“Why is that?” Smokescreen countered, hoping that he didn’t just get caught in the act. He began to think about escape plan before becoming increasingly relieved.

“We still need to make sure they actually work. You do realise that all this work that we’ve been conducting has only been on the visual tablet? That doesn’t make it 100% secure, you know.”

“Well, I didn’t know. Jetfire, how much do I have to push this? Really, this is fine. Thank you. C’mon, Hot Rod. We’re done.” Smokescreen said as he pulled the smoke bomb from Jetfire’s grasp and walked away, with Hot Rod following him out of the lab.

As he exited, Hot Rod looked back at the scientist, who was sinking into his frame, and patted him on the back reassuringly.

“Hey, he’s a bit harsh, but, thank you. Really. We’re pulling a prank on some of the crew, so these bomb don’t have to do any physical damage. Just emotional.” He laughed as he looked to see if he had made him feel any better.

“You don’t have to, Hot Rod. I’m fine. But, thanks anyway.” Jetfire said as he gave him a heart warming smile, and he held his servo. He really was okay.

Hot Rod looked astounded, and he grasped his servo tightly, almost pulling it.

“No, thank you for taking for taking the time to-”

“Roddy?” Smokescreen voice sounded from outside, and the little nickname was something that Smokescreen decided he should try out in this exact moment.

“Uh, th-thanks.” Hot Rod rushed as he let go of his servo and went back outside to join the other, leaving Jetfire in the lab to clean up their mess.

“Did you get them?” Smokescreen said, seeing the effect first hand of the nickname he had assigned him. Hot Rod looked a bit bashful, wishing he had introduced it sooner, in a more private setting.

“Yeah. I did.” He said as he played with the bomb in his hand nervously, finding that the floor was quite interesting.

“Great. First on the list is Warpath. He’ll love you after this.” Smokescreen smirked as he finally got to see some type of action after the departure.

Hot Rod was still recovering from the name until they reached Warpath’s hab suite, where the prank would begin. 

They maneuvered around his room until they found a window, and Smokescreen pulled up his servo that shifted into a tiny saw blade, tiny and precise.

“Woah. When’d you get that?” Hot Rod gushed as he stared at his finger in awe.

“The prison facility taught me multiple tricks. I could teach them to you sometime, you know. All you have to do is ask.” He teased as he began drilling a hole into the wall and looking inside to see if he had disturbed the bot inside. Hot Rod caught drift of his flirty attitude, and tried not to encourage it any longer. However, as Hot Rod would soon find out, his playful, curious attitude would simply not allow it.

Warpath was recharging in a slab peacefully, the perfect time to launch the attack. Smokescreen looked inside as he lifted a servo at Hot Rod, and he handed him the smoke bomb.

Smokescreen fitted it into the hole in the window, and threw it to the floor. The smoke bomb fell and echoed in the room, causing the two to cringe at the metallic sound. It lay silent for a minute, before it began whistling and twirling on the floor with accelerating speed. The room began becoming encased with a gray hue, increasing in intensity. The sound of the bomb was causing their audials to glitch, so they new this would wake Warpath up.

Warpath's visor lit up, and he sat up on the slab. He squinted and his visors dimmed as he examined the smoke. He began venting, and rushing off the slab. Smokescreen gave Hot Rod a nod, and he ran to Prowl’s office, where Phase Two would soon start.

Smokescreen watched as Warpath began to cringe at the sound, and he lowered the volume in his audials. He started to try to communicate through the radio frequency, and contacted someone, but Smokescreen blocked his frequency to everyone on the starship. He started going through all of his frequencies before Smokescreen got a frequency himself. He picked it up instantly, knowing exactly who it was.

"Hey, Smokescreen?" Hot Rod's voice sounded from his audials, catching him of guard as he expected one from Warpath.

"Oh, yeah?" He said as he grew slightly concerned. Did something happen?

"I'm not sure if we should go through with this." Hot Rod communicated through the frequency, distress glossing his voice.

"What do you mean? Of course we should. We planned this out, and what am I supposed to do about Warpath? C'mon Roddy. Is something wrong or… ?" Smokescreen said as he tugged at Hot Rod’s spark to try to get him back on the plan. It took him a while, but he responded back confidently.

“Okay, you’re right, sorry. Just never mind. Nothing’s wrong.” Hot Rod reassured as he realized he may have been over reacting.

“Hey I’ve got to go really quick, but we can talk afterward, okay?” Smokescreen said as he didn’t wait for his response and looked on inside Warpath’s hab suite. He didn’t want to deal with Hot Rod right now, it could be placed aside for later.

"Smokescreen? You there?" Warpath communicated and vented heavily as he tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Smokescreen waited a while before finally responding, pretending to cough and vent harshly before beginning. 

"Ugh, yeah. Is it happening to you too? What is happening?" Smokescreen said as he watched Warpath begin freaking out. He took the opportunity to place the glass back in it's slot in the window, and started mending it back in place. Erase the evidence.

"It's- it's smoke. Be careful and check your door. Mine was locked. I have no idea what-"

"It's an attack! The decepticons, they're *kssck* they've got *kssck* watch out- *kssck* notify Prowl *ksssck*" Smokescreen said as he finished up with the welding, and started walking away from his hab suite.

He faked an radio frequency scratch, and didn't respond to his cries.

"Smokescreen? Smokescreen!? Do you read me? It's a bomb, I found the capsule."

"I'm communicating to Prowl now."

As soon as he heard this, he hoped Hot Rod had successfully started Phase Two.

Hot Rod left Smokescreen with Warpath after his nod and made his way to Prowl's office, where he was reading some reports he had sprawled on his desk. He looked stressed.

He had his servos on his helm in frustration, and forced himself to flip back and forth between papers. At this sight, Hot Rod didn’t want to do anything to Prowl. If anything, he wanted to walk in and help him out.

He decided that he would tell Smokescreen to call off the prank.

He communicated with Smokescreen through their personal radio frequency, and to his surprise, he picked up rather quickly, almost as if he was expecting it.

“Hey, Smokescreen?” Hot Rod said as he looked into Prowl’s office. Prowl was sinking into his chair and venting loudly. Hot Rod felt so… villainous at the thought of disturbing him.

“Oh, yeah?” He heard him respond. Hot Rod was tracing the door to Prowl’s office with his servo as he contemplated this dilemma he found himself in. 

“I'm not sure if we should go through with this." He said finally, thinking about how Prowl would feel about this. Suddenly, guilt fell heavy on his frame as he gazed at the exhausted bot inside.

“What do you mean? Of course we should. We planned this out, and what am I supposed to do about Warpath? C'mon Roddy. Is something wrong or… ?" He heard Smokescreen say in his audial, making him think about how much time they spent together this past day. He definitely seemed to enjoy him more than Prowl has ever since they’ve taken off.

And he was right. They’ve already started. There was no going back. Or was there? No, no… 

“Okay, you’re right, sorry. Just never mind. Nothing’s wrong.” He tried to say happily as he shook of the uneasy feeling he had.

“Hey I’ve got to go really quick, but we can talk afterward, okay?” Smokescreen said reassuringly, and it immediately put Hot Rod at ease. He vented and smiled to himself.

“Sure. Thanks, Smokescreen. This means a lot to me.”

No response. He was probably busy with Warpath by now. 

Hot Rod knocked on Prowl’s door as he hid the smoke bomb in his servo behind him, and grasped it nervously. He really didn’t want to do this. Could he still go back?

He saw Prowl shoot up and adjust himself with a slight shake, trying to wake up a bit before opening the door.

“Hot Rod? Is there something wrong?” Prowl said, almost exactly what Smokescreen had said earlier. Prowl said it differently, though. Something was different about how he said it. What was it?

Hot Rod pushed the thought aside and pursued the mission at hand.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just thought I could help out. You look like you’re… exhausted.” Hot Rod said as he looked at the bot sympathetically, and he couldn’t help but frown just a bit at his state.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask that of you, Hot Rod. I’m perfectly capable, but thank you regardless for the offer-” Prowl began as he waved his hand dismissively. But Hot Rod was persistent.

“Please? I’m dying to do something, I can do anything. It’s late and I'm sure you haven’t recharged, you’re probably doing it all wrong.” He tried to convince jokingly as Prowl stepped aside to let him in, pulling a chair and placing it next to his.

“Yeah, you’re right. I might be.” Prowl humored with an endearing smile as he sat back at his seat and sifted through the documents again. He didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Seeing Prowl like this made Hot Rod so ecstatic, making him feel useful for having brightened his mood. There was no way that he wanted to pull this prank. Not when he was so close to him, and he wasn’t about to ruin this moment. The thought of Smokescreen left as quickly as Prowl went back to work.

“I’ll be right back. Give me two minutes.” Hot Rod said as he went to his hab suite and threw the bomb away, hoping this wouldn't bite him in the aft later. What is Smokescreen going to do?

“I’m back! Did you miss me?” Hot Rod said as he took a seat and did absolutely nothing despite his plea earlier.

“Severely.” Prowl said as he glanced at two papers and placed them down. He loved this little moment they were having, he never usually had this much fun doing work, and Hot Rod was wonderful company.

He was about to grab another one before he was interrupted by a radio transmission. 

He looked around in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Were his audials glitching or was this really what he was hearing?

“Smoke? An attack… Okay I’ll let the starship know through the intercom-” Prowl started to get up from his seat and headed for the large visual monitor before he was stopped by Hot Rod grabbing his servo urgently.

“Wait! Prowl, it’s a prank that Smokescreen and I-” Hot Rod tried to explain, but Prowl understood him perfectly, and interrupted him in the process.

“A prank?” Prowl vented and communicated with Warpath again. He should have known that this was caused by Smokescreen.

“Warpath, do not worry anymore. It was just a prank. I'll be over there in a short while.” Prowl vented and rose from his seat. He began gathering his papers and organizing them on his desk neatly before walking out.

“Thank you for informing me, Hot Rod. I need to excuse myself for a bit.” He said and closed the door behind him.

Hot Rod sat silently in his office and took in the situation. Prowl was under the impression that Smokescreen was the mastermind behind all this, and just him alone. He felt the guilt pulsing within his spark, and put his head down on the table in frustration. 

Was he going to tell him?


	8. Juxtaposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O.B.A. gets back to Cybertron but not without a groundbreaking discovery and Hot Rod tries to patch things up.

Hook opened the door, and as soon as he looked around, he was filled with an immense relief. He saw that that Bombshell and Vortex had just walked into the same room but from a different door. They must have had a journey of their own, too. Hook tried to find the antidote that would heal them of this drug by simply looking around the room when he was suddenly caught off guard by the gruesome scene in front of him.

Long Haul was on the floor, sediments and bricks sprawled all around him. He had placed down Crankcase before he took the tumble from ramming into the wall, but that seemed to be to no avail due to Crankcase’s already horrible state. 

Crankcase was sitting up on the floor, gagging energon from his mouth. He was holding his arm tightly in an attempt to stop the gushing of hot energon leaking from the large shoulder gash. His venting was shaky, and he never even tried to get up from his position, and lay limply slouching on the floor, as if he had already given up.

“Long Haul? Crankcase?” Bombshell said as he entered with Vortex, the both of them taking in the scene slowly.

“Crankcase!” Bombshell exclaimed suddenly as he realized that Crankcase could be in great danger. He ran to his side and removed his servo from his shoulder to see the true extent of the injury.

His entire shoulder cap was blown off, and still hot, barely holding the rest of his arm in place. Bombshell seated himself next to Crankcase and began going through compartments to try to find some gadget that would at least help him the best he could at the moment.

Long Haul slowly stood from the pile of brick and looked around, spotting Crankcase immediately. He looked back to see if the helicopter from before had followed them, but it seemed to have disappeared completely. In fact, the environment seemed to have changed for Long Haul and Crankcase entirely. 

Long Haul looked around in confusion, and he noticed they were no longer on Earth. He tried to spot some buildings, and even lifeforms, but there were no where in sight. He looked out into the hole he made in the wall and saw that they were on a red planet, once thought to be covered in grass. But all the vegetation from before was gone. What he thought was there, wasn’t even close to the reality that he sees now.

Geysers spewed out a gaseous acid into the air and he thought that they seemed familiar. Maybe they were there all along? They seem like the one’s Bombshell was talking about when they first arrived to this planet, right? That would be the only logical explanation.

He shrugged of the change to be thought about a different time and ran over to Crankcase’s side, his harsh venting loudly pulling back to the situation at hand. He faltered as he tried to figure out what to do about the whole ordeal, and never even noticed Bombshell and Vortex being right beside him.

Hook figured that Crankcase was getting enough attention and looked around the building they were in to find a possible solution to the acid they were intaking. Anymore of it and they could drop dead for all he knew.

A familiar blue hue caught his optic as he looked and he turned in that direction. He walked over to what appeared to be a blue, glowing switch with some symbols over it. It was the shape of a water droplet with a drawing of a shine engraved into the stone.

He placed a servo on the button and pressed it with enough force to make the old statue budge. The ceiling was shaking, and debris was falling onto the ground. Hook was beginning to have the impression that it was an earthquake until it finally stopped, and a multitude of small pipes had erupted from the ceiling. They began spewing a yellow, misty liquid that fell over each of them.

Most of the crew hadn’t even noticed that they were being encased by the strange yellow substance. That was, except for Crankcase. His optics widened in surprise as the pain that was surging through his body had began to simmer down quickly. His surprised expression seemed to have caused Long Haul to worry even more, as he began to hold his servo in desperation.

“Crankcase! What’s wrong? How do you feel? Is there anything that we can-” Long Haul cried as he thought of the worse case scenario.

“Hey, hey, I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” Crankcase said with sway as he got up and looked at the crew with a smile.

“What? What do you mean? Ah, your arm must be numb at this point. Don’t freak out, but we might have to amputate it-” Bombshell began as he brought his servo to Crankcase’s shoulder. When he shifted to the side for everyone to see his arm, the devastating blow was no longer there and the energon dripping from his shoulder wasn’t there either. In fact, his arm look perfectly normal, as if nothing had ever happened to it. Bombshell stared in astonishment, as did everyone else. 

Crankcase looked at them and grinned ear to ear, happy to have his arm back. He began to rotate the joint and stretch it out to make sure he was okay as everyone stared on in silence. What kind of science could explain this miracle?

“What the-” Vortex whispered quietly as he was abruptly interrupted by Bombshell’s incoming speech.

“It’s got to be the liquid! The mist? Whatever you want to call it, the substance that’s dripping from the ceiling! See those pipes up there? This is what’s repairing Crankcase. And, it’s removing the effects of the acid illusion we found ourselves in.” Bombshell said as he scraped a blob of it off his arm and put it into a built in chamber, and began studying its chemical composition. Long Haul stood silent as he tried to piece together the newly acquired information.

“Ah! That explains it all! Do you remember when you saw those humans earlier? Those were just an illusion, a trick of the mind. You thought you were on Earth when, in actuality, you weren’t. That’s why me and Vortex thought we were on Cybertron for a moment.” Bombshell said as he studied Crankcase’s arm in awe. He played around with the circuitry and Crankcase laughed in glee. He wasn’t going to die.

“Vortex and I,” Vortex corrected as he raised an eyebrow at the overly excited scientist. Bombshell shrugged at the comment and continued.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Anyway, this substance is the cure!” Bombshell said as he stood proud at his analyzation of the situation. Hook simply smiled and nodded his head knowingly.

“All of which I figured out by the time we had separated. Greetings O.B.A. team, I hope that we missed each other. We have lots of explaining to do with Megatron and Soundwave, so let's get going. The exit is this way, follow me. Bombshell, prepare the space bridge. We are going back to Cybertron.”

 

* * *

 

Hot Rod sat in Prowl’s office, the thoughts of the prank continuously ate at his mind until he finally stood up and decided that he would have to tell Prowl that the prank was his doing as well. This way he could at least keep his integrity rather than lose the partnership and friendship of both Smokescreen and Prowl.

Hot Rod slowly opened the door as he saw Prowl take a left, walking towards Warpath’s hab suite. He quietly followed in his pede-steps until Prowl finally entered the suite.

Hot Rod tiptoed to the door as he placed his servo on the doorknob, intending to open it, until he heard the hacking and wheezing of Warpath, which was undoubtedly caused by the smoke bomb. He seemed to be getting worse by the second. He then put his audio receptors next to the door and heard the two bots conversing inside.

“Damn that fragging bot!” Warpath managed to mutter as he continued to have outbursts of violent coughing. He tried to clear his vents, but he didn’t have any luck. An old bot like him could die of anything, but Primus, he hoped, not this.

“Yes, this is quite an unfortunate event that I wish could have been prevented. I wouldn't think that Smokescreen would go through such lengths to pull a prank of this caliber, especially this early into the trip. Don’t worry Warpath, I will make sure the punishment is fitting. For now, let's place you in Jetfire’s care. You seemed to have developed a cough.” Prowl said as he examined the room for anymore smoke, and caught sight of the empty shell of the bomb that lay motionless on the floor.

“Oh, I’m just fine. You worry too much about me. I might be old but-” Warpath said as he began, a surge of harsh coughs rushing through his vents as he hunched over at the full force of it. Prowl looked on in worry as he patted Warpath on the back and lead him out of his hab suite.

“I’ll escort you to Jetfire’s lab now, er, medic bay, rather. I’ll make sure he needs to give you a thorough look over. I’ll deal with Smokescreen later.” Prowl said as he opened the door to the hab suite, and took a left turn to Jetfire’s lab.

Hot Rod hid behind a wall, and watched the pair leave to the opposite direction. He sighed. Hot Rod hoped that he would at least have the chance to talk to Prowl about what he had contributed to the prank, but now he had to worry about when he was going to bump into Smokescreen. Does Smokescreen even know that he’s going to be punished? That he had been found out?

Hot Rod figured he may as well just follow them to Jetfire’s lab and just come out with the truth. No more beating around the bush and finding ways to avoid this. As Hot Rod began walking, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and feared for the worst.

“You know that’s where Prowl’s headed right? If he caught you, you’d be a dead bot where you're standing.” He heard a voice from behind him say as he flinched and turned around. Smokescreen?! Already?! Hot Rod felt his spark beat profusely, and tried to level out his venting.

“Hey, Roddy. How was the prank? What did Prowl do? I can only imagine the look on his face.” Smokescreen said as he looked up and sighed in contentment as he recalled the event. Hot Rod felt his spark nearly jump out of his frame at the sight of such a happy Smokescreen, and the guilt seemed to just get heavier on him as he realized that he was going to break this happy state of his. Smokescreen looked at the bot in confusion when he caught glimpse of the usually talkative bot.

“Roddy? What happened to you? Did Prowl catch you?” He asked as he leaned in to read his expression better. Hot Rod was avoiding eye contact, and fiddling with his servos. He was clearly hiding something, but what? It was most likely not something important, being that this was Hot Rod he was speaking to. Plus, he had other things to worry about, and dealing with this nonsense would just further obscure him off course.

“I need to tell you something.” Hot Rod began as he looked at the metal floor in despair. He needed to tell Smokescreen that Prowl knows about the prank, but how was he going to say this?

“That can wait for now. We need to get a visual on Warpath and Prowl, to see what they are up to. I don’t know how they figured out it was a prank, but we need to make sure they don’t know who did it.” He said as he grabbed Hot Rod’s servo and started walking in the direction of the lab. Whatever Hot Rod had to say, it could wait.

As they turned a corner, they both got a radio transmission from Prowl, causing them to stop in the middle of the hallway. Hot Rod looked over at Smokescreen to see if he was freaking out just as bad as he was, but to his surprise, he looked as if he was expecting this.

“Smokescreen. Hot Rod. I need you both to report to Jetfire’s lab immediately. There are some important matters-” Prowl began, only cut off from Smokescreen ending the transmission midway.

“C’mon Roddy. Prowl awaits.” Smokescreen said as he nonchalantly cruised the halls to the lab. Hot Rod followed meekly. 

He began to realize that he was approaching the situation as if he were a different bot. As if he were Seaspray. Shy. Timid. Scared. He brushed off the feeling and decided to take the situation head on, no regret. Even though there is room for major regret, he could do that later. Right now, he had to face the facts and accept his punishment. He, too, strode the hall with his head high alongside Smokescreen, who noticed his demeanor changed dramatically.

“Suddenly feeling better, hot stuff? Just because Prowl requested for your presence in the lab doesn’t suddenly make you the bad bot on the team. Don’t be so quick to forget that he asked for me, too. Don’t assume you’re already gaining my trust.” Smokescreen reminded as he smirked at the bot next to him. He seemed to be acting so cocky… maybe he was hiding something important? Or maybe he pressured Hot Rod so much that he had to toughen up a bit in front of him. Either way, he needed to put in his place.

“I’m not assuming anything. If anything, aren’t you assuming that I think I’m better than you?” Hot Rod said teasingly as he walked up right next to him, trying to push his buttons, just a little. He had to admit, this was a bit fun.

“Well, I’m not wrong, am I? Just pointing out the facts, Roddy.” Smokescreen said as they both reached the door of the lab. They walked in and saw Warpath laying down and attached to a visual monitor, his sparkbeat being displayed. He was still venting out profusely, causing Hot Rod to flinch at the sound of it.

Smokescreen ignored it until he saw Prowl talking with Jetfire at the side of the room. Smokescreen strode over to them, Hot Rod following him in the process.

Prowl saw them and dismissed Jetfire, who returned to Warpath.

“I see you two finally decided to show up. Glad you could make it.” Prowl said coldly as he quickly asserted himself and dropped the attitude that was usually so far from him. He wasn’t usually so snappy, but he found difficulty controlling himself for the first time. He had never experienced something as harsh as the betrayal he felt now.

“Why’d you call?” Smokescreen began as he crossed his arms at the bot, who seemed unaffected by the gesture.

“You two are going to be punished. Severely.” He said as he looked at Hot Rod dead in the optic. Hot Rod flinched at the sudden acknowledgement, and looked down in dismay. He didn't get to tell Prowl. Someone else did before he got the chance to.

“How did you-” Smokescreen began as he became increasingly confused by the situation. This was falling apart right under the seams in a matter of seconds.

“Seaspray told me everything. The planning, the conspiring, what was supposed to happen. How you two were going to Jetfire’s lab to help him ‘conduct some experiments.” He ended as he looked over at Jetfire, who looked like he was having difficulty with Warpath. Prowl shook his head in frustration as he looked at the bots in front of him. He vented at them.

“The point is, I have to figure something out. In the meantime, I’ll be escorting you two to different rooms so that I can have some time to think properly.” He said as he looked at Hot Rod, and turned his head in an unreadable expression. Disappointment, distrust, whatever it was, Hot Rod was not enjoying it. 

The pit in his spark that Smokescreen created was getting deeper as Prowl shoveled further and further down. If this continued like the way it was now, he would soon reach its breaking point.

Prowl walked past the two of them and lead them to separate rooms. Just before closing the doors, he reminded them that this was just temporary, and locked them inside.

Jetfire walked over to Warpath with a liquid in a glass beaker, and placed a servo on his arm to let him know that he was there. Warpath groaned as he stood up lazily and vented at the movement. His optics where dim, and his body seemed to become less opaque. This coughing was taking seriously fast toll on him, and Jetfire had no idea how much longer he had with the old bot.

“Hey. I’ve developed this medicine based on your symptoms, and it should do the trick. While you were recharging in your hab suite before, your systems temporarily shut down, including your internal temperature. When you woke up and inhaled the dense, humid nature of the smoke, it condensed on your metal due to your vents still being cold, a process called condensation. This, in turn, caused your internal venting system to track an unidentified substance inside of your vents, and activated a protocol to try to dispose of them by means of quick, fast paced air at once.”

“So what yer’ sayin’ is… ?” Warpath said as his audials seemed to have failed him the moment Jetfire said ‘hey.’

“I’m saying that you were coughing consecutively because something is somewhere it shouldn’t be.” Jetfire summarized as he vented at his attempt to explain the scientific solution.

“And this’ll help me?” Warpath said as he took the beaker with the medicine from his servo and examined it suspiciously, offering Jetfire a confused look.

“Yes. It’ll flood out the substance from your-”

“It ain’t poison?” Warpath interrupted as he look Jetfire in the optic in question. Jetfire looked back, dumbfounded by the question.

“No, it’s not-”

“Look, you’re way smarter than me in the field of science. You could kill me with just about anything in this here room; It would be easy for you. I just so happen to remember that you were part of them Decepticons, am I right?” Warpath said as he extended his arm over the slab, and held the beaker with two shaky fingers, threatening to drop it over the edge. He looked at Jetfire with a judgemental stare, causing Jetfire to shift under his gaze. 

“Y-yes, I was. But I have corrected my judgement-” Jetfire began as he tried his best to keep up with the old bot, but he was interrupted yet again. Jetfire reached for something on the desk, deciding he needed to take quick action before his venting becomes out of his control.

“Once a decepticon, always a-” Warpath began chanting before falling into a deep recharge, caused by a needle to the arm by Jetfire. His grip on the beaker weakened as he dropped it from his servo into Jetfire’s. He got a thin pipe and inserted it into the beaker, whilst the other end fell into Warpath’s agape mouth. 

He set down the beaker and vented tiredly as he walked away from the scene.That’s when he noticed that Prowl had just walked in, and looked over at Warpath worryingly.

“How are his vitals, Jetfire? He went back into recharge?” Prowl asked as he walked over to the slab and looked at the pipe and beaker in confusion.

“Er, you could say that. Other than that, I can assure you that his venting has been taken care of. Just give it an hour or two after he wakes up, and his condition will be gone. It’s nothing I’ve ever had to deal with before, but it was a good thing I was familiar with the chemical used in the smoke bomb. Or else, this could’ve ended very differently. But thank Primus it didn’t.” Jetfire said as he began putting away some equipment he had used.

As he was doing so, he recalled what Warpath was pestering him about and looked back at Prowl.

“He really doesn’t trust me. I just wish I could prove to him that I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I used to be.” He began as he stopped putting things away, and took a seat on a nearby chair. He scraped at the handle bar in deep thought.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jetfire. But people can change.” Prowl said as he thought about Hot Rod. They seemed to be getting along well, until, of course, this incident. How could he lie to him like this? And, of all things, expect to get away with it?

“Do you think that Warpath will?” Jetfire began as he looked at Prowl, who seemed to give out the best advice, almost like Optimus Prime.

“Warpath will… in time.” 

 

* * *

 

A silent vent lightly echoed throughout the dark room, only starlight entering through the small, circular window. Hot Rod sat on the slab in the room he was just assigned and drifted into state of despair. What was he going to do?

He could try to talk to Prowl. Maybe try to explain to him that he had tried to speak to him about prank before he had found out. He could try to talk to Warpath. An apology was greatly due, and he owed it to him. That poker game back on Cybertron still needed to be sorted, according to him, at least. 

He felt a metallic buzz in his audial, signaling a transmission. He picked up.

“Hot Rod. What on Cybertron happened back there?” Smokescreens voice echoed through his audials as Hot Rod cringed at the sound of it. He was the last person he wanted to talk to. He tried his best to conceal his anger, but that never works.

“Why didn’t you-” Smokescreen said, and something about his tone of voice pulled and pushed harshly at Hot Rods spark in a way he wished it hadn’t.

“There was nothing I could’ve done. Nothing. Don’t try to tell me what I can and can’t do.” Hot Rod began as he stood up and began pacing the room, become riveted by the tense situation.

“Tch. I can tell you whatever I want. You listen. You choose to. That’s why we did this whole thing, remember? You want my attention, Roddy. You know you do.” Smokescreen said, his voice that of silk. He knew that Hot Rod liked him. He was like a best friend Hot Rod never had. Frag, they could’ve be even more than that if he had played his cards right. But, once again, Hot Rod had to be reminded of his place.

“You don’t control me. You’re not better than me. You’re nothing to me.” Hot Rod yelled as he stood dead center in the room, his servos clenched, and his frame tense, shaking in anger. He felt his helm heating up quickly, but ignored it. Smokescreen did not dictate his life whatsoever, and Hot Rod was not about to let him think that for one second.

“Roddy, you’re lying to yourself. You’re lying to me. You and I both know that you would rather be with me than with any other bot here. Seaspray: annoying. Jetfire: boring. Warpath: cranky. Prowl: a no good lying son of a gun who’s too bossy for his own good, to the dismay of his dear friend, you. I can’t see you guys patching that up anytime soon.” Smokescreen said smoothly as he let his words set into the younger, more naive bot. Hot Rod’s remark seemed to have caught in his throat as his vocalizer glitched painfully.

“That’s just what you- what you- I mean- That’s not even half true. Prowl and I- It’s different. You don’t even compare to him.” Hot Rod said as he tried his best to recover.

“Compare to him? And why would I? His filthy aft is far below me. I’ve done great things that no one even knows about. Better than anything he’s done.” Smokescreen said quickly, asserting himself hastily.

“Right, right. I guess that explains why I prefer him over you, huh?” Hot Rod said as he smirked to himself in triumph.

“Oh, Roddy. Don’t make me laugh. Prowl has nothing on me-”

“Stop calling me that. I hate the way that sounds when you say it.” Hot Rod said, a sudden anger taking over him. Who gave him the right to give him a pet name to degrade him with?

“I’m sorry, what?” Smokescreen said, his cute little nickname backfiring on him.

“You know exactly what I said. I’ve had enough of your manipulation.” Hot Rod said as he was becoming fed up with this conversation.

“Hot Rod. You have no idea what you just missed out on. You’ll regret-”

Smokescreen’s remark was cut short by a different radio transmission he was receiving. It was from… 

“P-Prowl?” Hot Rod uttered more to himself than anyone. What was he doing communicating with him?

“Hot Rod, I shouldn’t be doing this right now, but I feel like I must.” He spoke in a low voice, barely catching Hot Rod’s audials. Despite the deep tone, Hot Rod felt the emotion in his distant vocalizer.

“Prowl, I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen. Prowl, please-” Hot Rod pleaded, but was cut short by the other.

“I need you to listen, we almost lost someone today due to ignorance and disobedience. It is a privilege to be a part of the Earth One team, and I expect more from you. Smokescreen, I can understand to a certain extent. But you… I would have never thought that you… “ Prowl stopped for a second, and a small vent escaped him. 

He thought that he was getting somewhere with Hot Rod. He wanted to make him feel at home, with bots who care about him. He thought he could be the bot who could help him realize that. Not Smokescreen. Not anyone else. He of course, couldn’t say this to Hot Rod. Not now, at least. Not when Hot Rod was hiding this lie right under his nose.

Hot Rod stayed quiet, afraid of what he would miss. Prowl was having difficulty talking, something Hot Rod had never seen before. The guilt of his backfired prank weighed heavy on his spark, and he felt himself becoming tired. He took a seat and patiently waited for Prowl to continue. It was the least he could do, he thought.

Prowl cleared his vocalizer and continued.

“Excuse me. I would have never thought that you would be pulled into Smokescreen’s bad influence. I wish I could expel him from the team so that bots like you can live up to exemperlary expectations, but I can’t.” Prowl said in a defeated tone of voice, and that caught Hot Rod’s attention. Prowl, the second in command, can’t kick someone off a team?

“Why can’t you?” He asked, genuinely confused. He was sure that Optimus Prime would understand.

“I can’t get into it. That’s not my point, regardless. Hot Rod, why did you do it? Why did you allow yourself to become part of his schemes? I thought I knew you better than that.” A broken vocalizer spoke, hurting Hot Rod’s spark. Prowl truly felt defeated. He had tried his best with this bot. He poured his every ounce of energy to try to entertain the enthusiastic bot, even when he felt the worse. Even when he had hours and hours of work piled on his desk deep into the night, he still tried. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t try hard enough.

Hot Rod stood up from his slab, determination filling his frame. Enough of the excuses. Enough of the lies. He was finally starting to commit to this. This, was the perfect opportunity to redeem himself, and save his spark of the guilt that would have built up later.

“Prowl, I am better than that. I was acting dumb, and I just… I messed up. I really did. He was so… cunning. I couldn’t get away. I’m sorry about whatever I did to Warpath… Can I talk to him? I need to talk to him. Please, let me apologize to him.” Hot Rod pleaded desperately as he tried to save himself of his wrong doings that were flooding his mind and taking over his persona.

When Prowl heard this, he realized that the problem wasn’t that he wasn’t trying hard enough, he had that covered. The problem was that he never gave Hot Rod the chance that he needed. In fact, Prowl had some redemption he had to do himself… 

“Give me a chance. Please… ” Hot Rod pressed on as he leaned against the wall of the room in hopelessness. Was he ever going to forgive himself for this?

“Of course. Of course I will. Hot Rod, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize that he was doing this to you. I’m sorry that I didn’t have enough for you. This was my fault, I… need to be a better commander for this team.” Prowl started as he felt his leadership dwindle right before him. He felt the pressure of all of Cybertron, ridiculing him for failing his team. Though this may have been insignificant, he really felt like he failed this test.

“You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t have anything to do this. I did this, Prowl. It was me.” Hot Rod quickly reassured, hoping that he didn’t make Prowl feel to defeated. It was far from his fault, and Hot Rod tried to get him to understand that.

“I suppose this is hard for you to understand. I have a responsibility as the commander, and that includes you. When you do something, it reflects my actions as well. You don’t need to understand this, really. I need to improve something with the team is all.”

“Prowl, no-” Hot Rod tried to counter, but was cut short.

“We can discuss this later, if we must. I need to go over and open that door for you.” Prowl said before he ended the transmission.

 

* * *

 

“Boom! Ready for launch!” The scientist yelled as he watched the portable space bridge slowly rise from the ground, red dust flying from the ground. Hook felt his frame flinch at the contact of it, and tried to brush off the feeling, and the dust.

“Just cause you’re Bombshell doesn’t mean you have to say boom.” Vortex complained as he pouted impatiently. The space bridge wasn’t even ready for launch.

“And another thing,” Vortex began, raising a servo in the air mockingly, attempting to piss off the scientist.

“And what would that be, my lovely lab assistant?” Bombshell teased as he tried to rush the space bridge by poking it, completely, and unintentional, ignoring the gesture.

“If we get the space bridge to open from one side, how will we get it to open from the other? How exactly are we going to teleport on the Decepticon base? What if we land on the Autobot territory? It would be your fault, right?” Vortex piled question upon question just to get the scientist worried about what was to happen if he messed this up. But to his dismay, Bombshell seemed to just shrug it off.

“Theoretically, yes.” Bombshell said as he gave up on poking the bridge and stood up from his squatting position. He then resumed with inputting the coordinates to Cybertron. Vortex looked at him in pure confusion. He had genuinely meant for those questions to be answered, not just discarded. What the frag were they going to do?

“So, do we have a solution to the problem or… ?” Vortex said annoyingly as he tugged at Bombshells arm to distract him from the device. Bombshell continued to ignore him until he finished up, and noticed Vortex attached to his arm, looking pretty pissed off.

“Did you ask me something?” Bombshell asked the boiling bot as he just barely processed that he was asked a question. Scratch that, multiple questions.

“Should we contact Megatron? Maybe he can help figure this out with us.” Crankcase said as sat next to Long Haul, who seemed to still be thinking about something. Long Haul stared at the ground in deep thought as he still pondered about Crankcases miraculous recovery. Crankcase patted his back playfully, and tried to distract him of the topic.

“There's no way he would pick up our frequency, but we can try Soundwave. Consider that he maaaay be very pissed off at us right now.” Bombshell said quickly as he looked at everyone uneasily. He hadn’t told them about the conversation he had with Soundwave earlier that day and hadn’t planned to until now.

“Why do you say that?” Crankcase said with a confused look on his face.

“Is it because we departed without letting them know?” Hook hypothesised as he looked at Bombshell in question.

“Exactly that, Hook. Let’s contact him now, shall we?” Bombshell said, sitting down in the circle that they had just created on the ground, criss cross applesauce.

He placed a tiny black radio in the center, and looked at the others. Hook nodded, and Bombshell placed his servo on the radio and adjusted the frequency to Soundwave’s personal one. Just before he could press the button, the radio started fizzing out, and a different button was blinking, indicating that they were receiving a transmission from someone.

Bombshell pressed it quickly, and everyone leaned in to hear the voice.

“O.B.A? Can you hear me?” Soundwave’s vocalizer sounded from the radio, to everyone’s relief.

“Bombshell and everyone else here. Why, did you need something?” Bombshell said, causing the group to give him disapproving looks. They had been on bad terms with Soundwave and that’s what he had to say? Soundwave shrugged sheepishly.

“The moment you opened your mouth and you’re instantly wrong, Bombshell.” Soundwave replied quickly, gaining a collective gasp from the group, and a yelp from the scientist.

“W-Wrong? What do you mean wrong? What am I wrong about-” Bombshell stuttered as he was certain he was right. He had just said two sentences and Soundwave spotted a flaw?

“You don’t have everyone with you.” He said, catching the crew off guard. They were missing someone?

“Uh, one look around and I can see, perfectly, that I do have everyone here.” Bombshell said confidently, only half doubting himself this time.

“I’ll show you when you get back to Cybertron.” Soundwave dismissed, ready to end the call.

“Ah, about that.” Bombshell said as he braced himself for what Soundwave’s reaction was going to be.

A vent traveled through the tiny radio, causing Bombshell to cringe at the sound, along with the crew.

“What is it now?”

“I have no idea how to teleport to the Decepticon base-” Bombshell said haphazardly before he was interrupted by Soundwave.

“I opened the space bridge in your lab. The coordinates are already inputted into your device. Someone is waiting here for you.” And with that, the transmission ended.

“So, Megatron is waiting for us, huh?” Bombshell said as he rose to his feet in triumph. Of course Megatron would be waiting for them, they were only hand selected by the big bot himself.

“That could be. But, you never know.” Hook said as he tried to deflate the scientist’s ego. 

“I think I do know. For sure this time. I mean, who else could it be?” 

 

* * *

 

“Reflector!? How did you- Why were you- Again, how did you… ?” Bombshell tried his best to say something coherent but failed to. Hook stood in shock at this discovery. How did they miss this?

“You know what, that doesn’t matter. Soundwave! You saved us! Thank you so much for opening the space bridge here on the base! If you hadn’t we would’ve been stuck on that planet forever probably!” Bombshell said as he went over to hug Soundwave, pushing Reflector to the side.

“Don’t touch me.” Soundwave said as he walked away from the bot in disgust. Bombshell shrugged it off, and offered him his servo to shake, which he silently refused as well.

The rest of the team was surrounding Soundwave and showering him with ‘thank you’ and ‘you saved us.’

“Um, hello? Fellow member forgotten here.” Reflector said, trying to get anyone’s attention at this point.

“Reflector,” Soundwave said as he moved passed the crowd. Reflector stood at attention to the bot, finding that he would sympathize with him a bit more.

“Understand that this was entirely your fault.” Soundwave said as he looked at the distressed bot in front of him, who looked flabbergasted.

“How in Primus’ name is this my fault?” Reflector began, hopelessness filling his spark.

“Where do I begin? Shall I explain this to Megatron or will you do the explaining to the team yourself?”

Reflector sighed as he thought about his options. When he realized that he had none, he lowered his shoulders in defeat.

“Well, it all started when I wandered out of the lab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out longer than expected, but I needed this information out so I wouldn't leave you guys hanging for too long. Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter!


	9. Revelation

*Flashback*

Reflector wandered into the lab with the group just after Bombshell explained he was going to tell them the most dangerous planet that they could teleport to. But once he found himself inside, he found that he grew increasingly bored by what he was explaining. Who the frag cared about Urpa, Urpa 2, Urpa 3, or Urpa 4?

He decided that it would be way more fun if he did his own exploring. So, naturally, he walked out of the most interesting place on the base. Instead, he walked outside into the cold, and tried looking for another dexi-squirrel. Maybe he would find the same one from before? The one that blew his chances at getting a good word in with Megatron… 

Before Reflector could realize, thirty minutes had passed and he was only a few yards away from the base. Coming outside was actually a bad idea, considering he never even found a squirrel. So, he decided to come back inside and join the others in Bombshell’s lab, and find out who this Vortex kid was. Hook and Reflector had no idea who he was, and they never even properly introduced themselves either.

Looking forward to see the crew, he walked inside happily. Only to be met with the optics of a very confused Soundwave, data pad in hand. He was examining a visual monitor, which seemed to be blinking red with caution. Soundwave suddenly shot his head in Reflector's direction, causing him to flinch at the sudden acknowledgement.

“Reflector. It is good that you are here. Tell me where the rest of the crew is.” He said quickly as he returned to exploring the room for clues. Reflector had also looked around the room himself, and found nothing of interest.

“No idea.” He admitted as he stood in the center of the room cluelessly.

‘You do not know… Is the responsibility of staying in this team not matter to you?” Soundwave threatened, momentarily stopping his search to stare Reflector dead in the optic, causing him to shudder at the disturbing sight.

“O-Of course it does. Why do you think I came back to the lab?” Reflector angrily spat as he tried to build up a convincing argument.

“I would not know the answer to that. I am drawing nothing.” Soundwave dismissed him quickly and returned to exploring the room. Reflector had no idea what to say to that, so he just awkwardly looked around room.

“Help me find out where they went.” Soundwave commanded and moved to the space bridge in interest. The other bot followed him in that direction, and took a hard look at the invention. It was glowing purple and blue, and was hot to the touch. When Reflector had touched the surface, his servo burned with a *hisss* and he winced in pain. Soundwave silently scolded him with a gruff and backed away from the device.

“It is clear what happened.” He said as he typed in information into his data pad.

“I don’t… What happened?” Reflector asked as he looked at Soundwave in confusion. Soundwave just vented at this bot’s ridiculousness and answered his question anyway.

“They teleported with the space bridge. This must have been by accident.” Soundwave tried to rationalize the information he was gathering. There was no way they would leave without letting him know, and forgetting about Reflector in addition to that. Or, Reflector forgetting about them. Whatever the case was, it had to have been unintentional.

“Did they go there?” Reflector motioned to the large visual screen that was blinking red before. They both walked up to it to get a better look and noticed that the coordinates were fixated on Raydon 343, and it’s several moons.

“Yes. This is where they teleported.”

“The second most dangerous planet, Raydon 343, next to Raydon 342, the first most dangerous planet.” Soundwave said as he examined the bio that the planet came with, explaining that the planet had certain properties that could not be identified, but was definitely different from other planets.

“They may have gotten lucky by teleporting to Raydon 343 instead of the other. Very lucky.” Soundwave said deviously as he studied the projection some more and finally left. Reflector watched him leave for a bit before deciding he should probably find himself out as well.

“Where are you going?” Reflector said as he followed him to the door of the lab.

“I am going to Megatron, to brief him on the situation. I suggest you come with me.” Soundwave advised, opening the door in invite.

“Really? That would be such and honor-” Reflector gushed, placing a servo over his spark as if he had just been announced Decepticon of the year.

“I do not want you to ruin anything more in the lab while I am gone, so I have to take care of you for now.” Soundwave bluntly stated, as his once inviting door had now turned into an untrustworthy one. Regardless, Reflector had followed him to Megatron’s office, embarrassment encasing his frame.

They finally made it to the office after an awkward silence and Soundwave stopped at the door hastily.

“What are you waiting for? Open the door.” Reflector asked as he stared at the bot in confusion. Soundwave hesitated at the keypad.

“Oh, are you scared?” Reflector teased as he elbowed his partner in a joking manner. Soundwave shot a glare in his direction, causing Reflector to retract his arm.

“I am not scared. I do not want you to join me inside. Stay out here and sit in one of the chairs.” Soundwave commanded as he keyed in the code into the pad and walked inside briskly, leaving the other to sit in a chair just outside the office.

Reflector couldn’t help but to feel horrible about this entire situation. Why would he allow himself to wander outside and become distracted once again by that damned Dexi-squirrel? He never even spotted it this time! And now, Soundwave thinks that he doesn’t care about his team. He did care, just not as much about them than that squirrel.

He tried to push those thoughts aside, but he wasn’t able to. Of course they would forget about him, he didn’t have any redeeming qualities, no useful abilities, no leadership skills. No dexi-squirrel. Okay. Enough of the dexi-squirrel. Reflector silently said to himself, trying to avoid thinking about it. It seemed to occupy his thoughts quite often. He wondered why. Then he stopped, because he was thinking about it again.

Okay, for real this time. Concentrate… Wait. Concentrate on what? Oh, this was going to be a long wait. Just as Reflector finished the thought, Soundwave walked out with his trusty data pad, and locked the door behind him.

“Soundwave! What did he-” Reflector began, his arms raised in celebration, happy he got out so soon.

“Leave me alone for two minutes.” Soundwave said sharply as he began to send a radio transmission to someone on his radio.

“Oh. Okay.” Reflector said patiently as he sat back on his seat, still warm with boredom. Ugh, how long was this going to take? He started having a conversation with someone on the radio communication line and walked away from Reflector, who all he had going for him was looking at the wall for another thirty minutes to look forward to. But to his pleasure, the call was quite brisk.

“-not what I asked. Where are you?” Reflector heard Soundwave say, only tuning in to some of the conversation.

“Bombshell, answer the question.” Bombshell? Now that caught Reflector's full attention. He was talking to Bombshell? What was he saying? Where were they? Did they forget about him? Did they find a dexi-squirrel?!

“That does not matter. Megatron wants you and your “team” on Earth or you’re dead, understand?” He said sternly as he crossed his arms and stood still in listening. Reflector was on the edge of his seat, literally, waiting eagerly for his next words.

“Alert me when you arrive on Earth. If I don’t receive a transmission within the next five days from you, the mission will be considered a failure, and you will not be let back on Cybertron. Goodbye.” Soundwave turned and vented out loud. Then he saw Reflector. He vented again, louder this time.

“Was that Bombsh-” Reflector asked quietly, trying not to disturb the bot from his frustration.

“We wait now.” He interrupted, not wanting to hear his awful question.

“We what?’ Reflector said, not what he was expecting as a response.

“Wait.” Soundwave hissed as he walked away from the office. Reflector shot up and started following him, also not expecting him to leave abruptly like that.

“Where are we going-”

“Lab. Stop talking to me.” He shot quickly as he quickened his pace.

‘Why’ is what he wanted to ask but he bit at his glossa in restraint. This was going to be a long day of waiting.

 

* * *

 

Turns out, it wasn’t that very long of a day, considering they had a lot of information to fish through. Soundwave suggested that they try to get the space bridge on Cybertron up and running so that when the O.B.A. team gets back, they can teleport here when they are ready. Easy in theory, hard in execution.

And Reflector was absolutely no help. Soundwave read and reread dozens of papers that had sprawled all over the floor, most likely caused by the space bridge being activated for the first time. He had organized the papers into three groups. Useful, maybe useful, and not useful.

Soundwave vented hopelessly. It had been a long time since he had brought himself to the lab, but once he did, he was only able to recognize the older Cybertronian technology, none of which was used in the creation of this space bridge. He began to grow frustrated, then an idea popped into his head.

“Reflector, did Bombshell explained anything to you?” Soundwave asked as he looked over at the bot. Reflector would have told him by now, but it was worth the chance regardless.

“Um, yeah, I think.” Reflector said as he allowed himself to sift through his memory archive. It was then that he realized that he had allowed himself to become distracted throughout a good portion of the explanation Crankcase was giving at the time.

“What do you remember?” Soundwave took out his datapad hopefully, and got his servos ready for typing.

“Crankcase was explaining… that… the space bridge is compact into a tiny box…” Reflector slowly stated, trying to leave out the unimportant things he had found important at the time. And with all that subtracted from the equation, he was left with a dumb explanation of something he still didn’t understand.

“Yes?” Soundwave pushed, not having typed anything yet, hoping he would have something more important to type later in the conversation.

“And that it… compresses?” Reflector shyly admitted, compressing his shoulders into his frame in nervousness. This was the worst feeling he’d ever had, and he made a mental note to pay attention whenever he had the chance too. Anything to avoid this ever happening again.

“Would that be all that you remember?” The other bot asked, already placing his data pad down at his side.

“Yeah- I mean, yes.” Reflector corrected, attempting to impress him with his good conduct. That’s as far as that went. Soundwave typed for a mere two seconds before looking at his three piles again and venting.

Well there goes that idea. But, they had something. That something wasn’t that useful but, he supposed, it was something.

“Take a look at these papers. Maybe looking at them will trigger your memory.” Soundwave said as he passed the papers to a very confused Reflector. Soundwave was able to gather that the some of this pile may be some sort of report for the space bridge, but he wasn’t sure which ones. This was very advanced work, something only Bombshell could fabricate at his own will. But he knew for certain that some of them were, indeed, junk.

“Uh, sure. Let’s see… “ Reflector grabbed one of them as he tried to study the information. It all looked familiar, but nothing he could really understand. Some formulas did pull at his memory bank, quite harshly, but that was from long ago, not from just hours ago.

“I can’t say I remember these from before they left, but I remember these when I was at the one of the Autobot bases a few years ago.” Reflector stated, recognizing the number for the speed of sound in space being multiplied to the power of four, and then it being scratched out due to improbability. And the atomic weight for Beryllium divided by the number 6. And, he recognized the number for the speed of light through space, which was 299,792 kilometers per second. And, that electromagnetic waves can travel through the vacuum of space, unlike mechanical waves, meaning that it was impossible for sound to travel through space. And-

“From before your injury, I presume?” Soundwave asked, being that this was the only logical explanation for him understanding this in the slightest. He knew he wouldn’t understand it as much as he did, which wasn’t a lot.

“That’s what I’m told.” Reflector admitted, looking through all the papers briefly and arranging them before he tried to look through them again.

“I suppose that will do. That’ll be enough from you, thank you.” Soundwave commanded as he took the papers from him, finding that they were scrambled. He vented at the disorganization and tried to fix them. Taking another looked, then he studied the order of it, and noticed a pattern.

“Reflector, how did you organize these?” Soundwave said, astonished that they suddenly began to make sense in a way he didn’t understand yet.

Reflector thought about it, not even realizing that he had done that. Then he remembered that he did put them in and order, in accordance to a previous memory he had seen.

“I put them in order of which I thought was logical, based on my recollection. I believe it’s a rough construction for a space bridge capable of traveling at a faster rate of the speed of light, but It may be flawed. Their machine doesn’t travel at the speed of light, it teleports. So this may have been discarded idea.” Reflector informed as he looked through the document in his memory archive. Soundwave was silently awed at his explanation, finding it 100% logical.

“Yes, it would appear that way.” He stood up and looked for different papers that would explain how to operate the space bridge.

“So you came to the same conclusion too? Yeah, I figured that I would be no help anyway.” A defeated Reflector sighed as he, too, began looking for papers with no purpose.

He spotted one that had a large red circle on the page, and picked it up and analyzed it.

“‘Once the button starts to blink red, that indicates that a location has been set, and that the space bridge is ready for activation. If you place spark signatures inside, or an object it recognizes, then the object or spark signature will be teleported to the set location in under one second. The farther the location, the longer-’” Reflector read until he was interrupted by the other.

“Give me that paper.” Soundwave commanded as he stormed over there and took the paper from his servo, and read it himself. He took notes of it on his data pad, and Reflector felt useless. He had tried to help, once again, and failed. Just how much more of this could he take?

“Reflector, do as I command. Go to the space bridge.” He stated bluntly, and Reflector followed his orders sluggishly.

Soundwave was orally reading the instructions to Reflector as he completed each one with questionable doubts along the way. Soundwave forced himself to elaborated on them and continued with the next instruction until they were ready to operate it.

“And, that looks like it’s ready for some space traveling!” Reflector said as his mood brightened from the end product that he was admiring, despite being told what to do along the way.

“Correct. Turn it on.” Soundwave commanded simply.

“Turn it on… okay… like this?” Reflector said as he pressed a green button, and the machine whired quietly as it slowly began glowing blue.

“Yes. Wait here.” Soundwave said as he walked away to com someone, leaving Reflector to the privacy of the lab. Alone. He sat in silence for a good two minutes, just looking at the room before realizing that Soundwave was within distance for his audial to pick up what he was saying.

“- when you get back to Cybertron.” Soundwave said, reaching over to end the call, already making optic contact with Reflector before he stopped in his tracks and vented loudly.

“What is it now?” Soundwave grunted, clearly annoyed. Silence.

“I opened the space bridge in your lab. The coordinates are already inputted into your device. Someone is waiting here for you.” And Soundwave quickly ended the transmission and returned to Reflector, who was waiting on a chair.

“They are coming back shortly.”

“Really? That’s great!” Reflector exclaimed, jumping from his seat. He got to see his team again, after an excruciating few hours, which seemed to be common for him.

“Yes. Now, we wait-” Before Soundwave could finish his thought, the space bridge roared loudly, and the once organized papers where now flying up roughy and ripping through the air. A bright light escaped the machine and heat washed over the entire lab, leaving the two inside disgusted. Reflector failed to care about that. He was too excited to see his team again.

There they were, walking out exhausted and happy to see them. Reflector rushed over to their aid, but was met by the sight of a confused Bombshell.

“Reflector!? How did you- Why were you- Again, how did you… ?” 

“That was my bad, I tried to-” Reflector said, guilt building up in his frame, but was forgotten about instantly.

“You know what, that doesn’t matter. Soundwave! You saved us! Thank you so much for opening the space bridge here on the base! If you hadn’t, we would’ve been stuck on that planet forever probably!” Bombshell said as he went over to hug Soundwave, pushing Reflector to the side.

*End of Flashback*

“That’s how it all pretty much happened.” Reflector ended, hoping they would see that he was a better bot than previously thought.

“Wow, you understood my work? You realize I was only putting in half my effort to try to make sense of it right?” Bombshell stated, looked at Reflector in pure shock.

“Oh yeah, definitely. It was quite obviously rushed and out of order. And undoubtedly wrong. You realized so late in your calculations that traveling at the speed of light would be far slower than teleportation. The twenty six pages of theory you wrote down about it proved it.” He responded as he looked over it briefly in his memory archive, vividly remembering every detail.

“Yeah, well, I never used that theory in my final construction, so that’s a good thing.” Bombshell weakly admitted, averting optic contact with anyone in the room.

“Anyway, credit where credit is due. You both got the space bridge to work and bring us back. Thank you both.” Hook said as he gave both Soundwave and Reflector a smile. Reflector felt his spark flutter with the sudden encouragement. Finally, someone was giving him positive feedback!

“It was no problem Hook, thanks for-” Reflector began humbly before being interrupted by a different bot.

“O.B.A. Megatron’s Office. Now.” Soundwave commanded as he followed the team out of the room.

 

* * *

“Good morning Warpath, you were out for quite some time.” Jetfire began as he prepared his diagnostic cable for Warpath’s port, a simple check of his coding to see if anything has gone array. He may not be a medic, but he was a good makeshift one.

“Ugh, I feel horrible… “ Warpath began as he onlined his optics, and looked around in discomfort. Then, he spotted Jetfire.

“Not you again, can’t I get a different doctor?” He complained as he tried to get off the slab, but failed to due to the warmness he found in the blanket he was currently encased in. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“There are no other doctors, just me.” Jetfire stated as he looked for an opportunity to ask his question. What he was about to do was considered to be primarily a very invasive procedure that required a very close relationship, despite just being a regular check up.

“Wow, my cough… it’s gone… “ Warpath grunted, expecting his vocalizer to hurt. To his (audible) surprise, it worked perfectly. He was impressed by what the scientist could do, and was secretly thankful.

“I’ve got something to ask of you.” Jetfire said, being careful to ask nicely. He knew he might get a refusal, but he had to try anyway. His health was more important than any grudge Warpath could possible hold against him.

“What’s that?” Warpath said, an instant respect in his vocalizer he hadn’t noticed.

“Is it possible you would allow me to plug this into your diagnostic port? I understand if you won’t permit it, but I need to check for any further unsurfaced damage that may have been caused from the smoke bomb. Purely medical.” Jetfire tried to reassure, hoping he hadn’t scared him off to much. He may have been trying in vain in his attempt, but he needed this relationship at a level he was comfortable with, especially with Warpath. This was going to be very hard to accomplish, but it would be worth it in the end.

“I suppose you could try that, if you think it’ll help.” Warpath said, allowing his arm to escape from the warmth of the towel so that he could open his port for Jetfire. Besides, he didn’t have anything to hide in his coding anyway, and it was fun to watch this bot try so hard to give him the best medical care he could possible give. He wondered how long it would take him to realize that he had already gained his trust. It was just too fun to watch him squirm.

“Thank you. It’ll be brief, I promise.” Reflector reassured as he plugged into Warpath and viewed his data, checking to see if anything was askew. To his relief, he found nothing worth noting, other than some irreparable damage, and unplugged briskly.

“Anything?” Warpath asked as he sat up from the slab, feeling way better than before. He noticed that he was no longer a dull, grey color, and his colors were brightly displayed, more than ever.

“Everything seems perfect. Even better than before. I noticed that you did have some… “ And he trailed off, deciding it would be better not to talk about his damage. He didn’t want to possibly trigger something within the emotional restraints of the old, war induced bot.

“Well, never mind that. You’re ready to begin work as normal in the starship.” Jetfire said as he began turning off equipment.

“Great, thanks ‘doc.” He said as he got of the slab and noticed that his pains and aches were completely gone, even the chronic ones.

“Oh, you don't have to call me a doctor-” Jetfire began, but stopped when he saw Warpath trying to get off the slab.

“What the… ? What happened to the… ?” He failed to make a coherent thought, the discovery startling him so much it was almost overwhelming. He was able to get up and rotate his joints with no discomfort whatsoever, which is unexpected because he was old as Pit and he had laid in recharge for hours.

“Ah, the pains? I noticed that you had mildly corrosive servos, so I checked the rest of your joints and noted that the pains are caused by neglect of rotary fluid. So, I applied the oil to your joints and manipulated them while you sleep to avoid pain when you finally woke up. I see that it worked?” Jetfire asked as he held up a servo just in case the old bot needed the assistance. To his pleasure, the bot waved him off and began heading to the door with ease.

“It worked, alright. I feel so much more agile.” Warpath said as he tested maneuvers that he previously wouldn't dare to.

“Careful now, don't push it. You may feel better, but I still need to replace some of your joints. Something I think you'd want to do another time?” He asked as he followed him to the door.

“Yeah, thank you for the massage, that was rather unnecessary of you.” Warpath said as he stopped and appropriately thanked him.

“I felt the need to. If you need help with anything else, just come by. I'll gladly help.” Jetfire opened the door for him, and closed it. He vented in relief. That went surprisingly smoothly.

He went back and finished putting his equipment away, and he was delighted to have had such a pleasant conversation with the bot. This was heading the right direction.

 

* * *

Prowl opened the door to Hot Rod’s temporary suite, and was meet with the depressing sight before him. Just days ago, this speedster was up and about in the bar, running around the place with him, servo in servo. They had settled down and talked over the low light of the bar, discussing aspirations and dreams. Now, here he sat, on the slab of a never used room, the dark light of the stars shining darkly through the tiny window. He never even looked up at him when he heard the door open, just an uncomfortable shift in his posture.

He forced himself up and massaged his face with his servos before looking back at Prowl, his face almost too difficult to look at. It looked as if he had torn himself apart over this, as if the guilt literally eaten him alive. His frame lay sluggishly in no attempt at all to straighten himself up. His head hung low in undeniable shame.

“Hot Rod, my Primus, what have you done to yourself?” Prowl said as he reached over to the disheveled bot, his servo coming to his shoulder in comfort. Hot Rod never seemed to notice the sudden contact, as he never acknowledged it.

“I am so sorry… “ Was all the bot could mutter, his vocalizer scratched with a horrid sound, glitching was the best way to describe it. Little noises were escaping his vocalizer, silent sobs as he bathed in his guilt that had built up in the last few hours.

“Stop it. This is clearly affecting you. Hot Rod, understand that this was merely a mistake.” Prowl seemed breathless at the sheer result of his light from before scolding had on him. Hot Rod was silent, just listening to what he was saying, no remark or comment of any sort. This was almost too hard to believe. It was way too tempting to just leave him standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, not like the way he was. He had to do something to this bot right now.

“These things happen.” Prowl reassured as he pulled the bot into a comforting hug. He never really intended for Hot Rod to take it this way, but this was just entirely too much, not what Prowl had expected at all.

For a few seconds, he did nothing when he felt the embrace. But he began to crack at the thought of Prowl forgiving him, and he gave into it. He held on tightly to him, his shoulders shaking from the crying.

“I am so sorry… “ He repeated after restarting his vocalizer, sounding much better this time. He felt Hot Rod’s servo clutch his shoulder in a desperate attempt to convey the intensity of his message better.

“Don’t apologize to me.” Prowl said, prying himself away in order to look at him in the optics, still holding each other's shoulders. Hot Rod was visibly crying, but he seemed to be feeling much more at ease.

“Apologize to Warpath.” Prowl huffed, almost crying himself. He felt utter remorse for reducing Hot Rod to this, and forced himself to let go of him. Hot Rod sniffed and tried to pull himself together by rotating his shoulders and resetting his vocalizer again.

They exited the room in silence, and Prowl found it very uncomfortable that he wasn’t talking. He found it so relaxing, the way Hot Rod always had some thought on his mind and voiced it, but he didn’t say a thing as they walked to Warpath’s hab suite.

It was frustrating, he wanted things to be back to normal already. He had only known this bot for about a week but he found himself growing so attached to him, as if he had missed out on something during his life and needed to desperately know what that was. As if his lies didn’t affect him anymore. He just wanted his Hot Rod back, something that wasn’t even his. Yet.

What am I thinking? I need to control myself. He’s just a bot. Just like everyone else.

Prowl finally found the power to speak to him, after he got his thoughts in order.

“Hot Rod, stop for a second.” Stop he did. So quickly, that Prowl had to back up instantly. Prowl tried to look him in the optics, but he averted his gaze. His frame was tense with guilt, and it was showing.

“Understand that the emotional health of the crew is very important to me.” Yes, the crew. That must be why Prowl felt so strongly about this, there was no other explanation that he would believe.

“And, with someone as young as you, I can see that you can be more prone to becoming affected by distress more than others.” Prowl sympathized, placing his servo on his shoulder again for the second time today. It seemed to be the only way to truly convey his emotions to the bot appropriately.

“Prowl, I’m fine. It’s just for today-” Hot Rod huffed, still keeping his gaze fixated on the floor.

“I hope it’s just for today. I can’t exactly take your word for it.” Prowl said, his servos gripping on his shoulders, causing Hot Rod to look up at him. His optics were tearing up again. Prowl felt his spark clench at the sight, but remained poker-faced to the best of his ability.

Hot Rod looked away, ashamed by his presentation. He wanted to make a good impression on Prowl, but with how things where going, he just looked like an overly emotional trouble maker with nothing to offer the team. The only thing he wanted to do was to escape this, even if it was for a brief moment. He wanted to go back home and race in the snow, alone, feeling the air rush past him, calming his every nerve. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that now. All he could do was look away from those optics staring down his spark, judging him.

“Prowl, st-stop. I’m okay.” He managed to plead, his vocalizer glitching out again. He restarted it, over and over and over due to his frustration. He offlined his optics, over and over and over, trying to prevent more crying.

“What are you- Calm down-” Prowl said, letting go of him for a second to see what he was doing. He looked horrid, his optics blinking in his attempt to fix himself. When Prowl realized he was offlining his optics, he decided that he needed to do something to help this bot.

“Prowl… please… “ Hot Rod huffed in a hushed manner, his shoulders caving into his frame. He didn’t even know how to finish his thought audibly, but all he wanted was to be alone, covering the world from seeing this embarassing state of his. This wasn’t him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He let the guilt fill his spark, and now, he was crying in the hallway in the caring arms of someone he had unintentionally lied to. He felt disgusting and unworthy of this attention.

“You know what? We’ll skip on visiting Warpath for now. I need you in my hab suite. You don’t look fine at all, and I’m sure you don’t want anyone seeing you like this.” Yes, that was the reason he was doing this, because Hot Rod was embarrassed. 

“No, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. No more talking until we get there.” Prowl hushed as he held his servo and walked them to his suite. He was getting tired of this bot just trying to shake this off, he was so clearly not okay. And, that’s okay. He just wanted Hot Rod to be okay with it too.

Once they got there, he settled the disheveled bot onto his slab, and Prowl took a seat at his own desk. 

“Talk.” He demanded, sitting at the edge of his seat. Hot Rod shifted, trying to figure out if he actually wanted to tell him or not. He didn’t even know what to start with.

 

* * *

 

As he was flipping the page, Warpath heard a knock at his door, and he forced himself up. He had to admit, all his joint pain leaving all of a sudden made him so much happier, and he was practically ecstatic to have it be gone. After having his first surgery, Jetfire told him that with a few more operations, and he could live painless for the rest of his life. Well, partly painless. Regardless, why wouldn’t he be happy?

He opened the door, and his jaw dropped.

“Hot Rod?” He uttered, flabbergasted by the sight before him. He hadn’t even seen him the entire time they were on the Calabi-Yau. Suddenly, here he was, at his doorstep.

“Hey! I’ve got something to ask you.” He said, his shoulders a little tense, to a point where Warpath noticed, and he wasn’t necessarily looking out for visual cues all the time. Only when he was playing poker.

“What’s that?” What could this bot possibly want?

“Would you accept a game of poker? At my hab suite?” Hot Rod smirked, offering the other his servo in agreement.

“At mine, and you have a deal.” Warpath boomed, shaking his hand roughly.

 

* * *

 

Authors Note

 

I am going to be under a short hiatus due to the lack of thought I have put into this (as embarrassing as that sounds.) Don’t worry! It will be very brisk, I just need to do some planning and such. If you have any ideas you’d like to suggest, go ahead! I gladly encourage that. Thank you all so much for reading this, and I hope you’ll be looking forward for the next chapter.

Also, I think it is worth noting that I am currently on my winter break for high school, so maybe later in the month there might be a delay in posting, but I will finish this. I hate to ask of this, but please be patient. I want this to be perfect. Thank you again. See you very soon!


	10. Change is Imminent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O.B.A. arrives to Earth, along with Earth One.

“He did not sound too happy.” Crankcase announced as the O.B.A. team settled into the lab after just returning from Megatron’s office. How many more times would they find themselves in there for something as stupid as this?

“I wonder why.” Vortex added in a sarcastic manner, becoming even more bored by the second. Bombshell chuckled at his little friend, but the conversation never picked up after that.

Megatron was infuriated back there, and he even threatened to disband the team altogether. Hook was able to calm him down, but the pressure was on. This was serious. This wasn’t some experiment that they could mess up and fix. They only have one shot at this. Or else… 

After a few minutes, the team was enveloped in an uncomfortable silence, and Reflector thought this was the perfect opportunity to ask the question that was burning in his processor the moment they stepped out of the space bridge.

“When you guys teleported, what happened on that planet?” He chimed, and the room perked up instantly. None of them have had the chance to share what they went through yet, especially because since their return, everything was so quickly paced they barely had time to think. 

Hook bit his glossa as he anticipated someone was going to start speaking before he could. Long Haul looked at Crankcase with a small smile behind his face mask, and he smiled foolishly and scratched the back of his helm in an awkward laugh. But before he could share his more exciting story, Bombshell leaped at the opportunity to talk.

“It. Was. Amazing. The planet was Raydon 342, and we found ourselves in an interesting situation.” He said as he began his monologue, and Vortex had cut him off short, thankfully. He found that what they did at Raydon was far less story worthy than what the others did.

“Okay, now you have the context, and that’s all we need from Bombshell. What we all want to know is what happened to Crankcase and Long Haul.” Vortex ushered as he gave Bombshell a death stare, and returned his gaze to Crankcase, who was clearing his vocalizer. Hook leaned in, also curious as to how he had succumbed such a great injury, and survive for as long as he did.

“Well, Long Haul and I thought that we were on Earth after we ran away from we thought was a human, and that’s when… “ His vocalizer died at that part as he made an embarrassing realization. Long Haul cocked his helm in confusion, then his visor went dim and his shoulders slumped as he looked away from Crankcase in disappointment.

“What? ‘That’s when’ what?” Vortex pushed as he was anxiously waiting for a response from the two silent mechs in front of him. Long Haul vented loudly before addressing the team again.

“Well, Crankcase made quite the mistake.” He said, looking over at Crankcase. He looked at his servos in shame, until he returned his gaze up to the team with an awkward smile as Long Haul spoke of his accident.

“He commed the Earth One team, telling them that we were on the planet already.” 

“You. Did. What?” Hook said, trying to keep his composure. He couldn’t believe his audials, and he had to hear this one more time. This was a joke, right?

“I told Prowl that we were on Earth.” Crankcase admitted, adding a detail to his story that seemed to push it, just a little.

“You told Prowl. Okay, that’s okay-” Hook tried to reassure, but was cut off by Bombshell.

“You do realize that you just jeopardized the whole team, right? We were supposed to be a secret, unknown to them, incognito on Earth. This just defeated our entire strategy. Now what are we going to do once we do get there? Earth One’s going to think-”

“Could you shut your vocalizer for two slagging minutes? It’s fine, he already did it, there’s no point in dwelling on this. Earth One is still traveling in space if his comm was able to reach them. Either way, it’s not like we could go back in time and- you know, never mind that. Don’t want to give the esteemed scientist any ideas.” Vortex said, putting the group at ease. That, except for Bombshell, but he didn’t say anything in protest.

“Sorry, I was just mapping out vocally what you potentially ruined for us. But, yeah, it’s cool.” Bombshell recovered as he crossed his arms in defeat and sank into his chair.

“Vortex is right, nothing can be done about it anymore. This just means we need to get there as soon as possible. We don’t want Earth One to have the advantage of arriving to Earth before we do.” Hook commanded, and he thought about whether he should tell them about what he had found when he was on Raydon, when he was in his home planet.

The black and white stones, with the names Urim and Thummim engraved into them. The black stone representing ‘yes’ and the white one representing ‘no.’ To answer his mental question, he reached for them and picked one without looking, and checked to see which one it was. It was the white one, Thummim.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Crankcase said, snapping Hook back to the conversation and away from the stones.

Hook simply nodded and placed the rock back in his compartment.

“What’s that?” Vortex said, eying him suspiciously.

“Nothing of importance. For now, let's focus on getting to Earth already. If you are ready, so am I. I say we leave today.” Hook said as he tried to redirect the attention to something more relevant, such as Earth.

“Today? That’s a bit rushed, isn’t it?” Crankcase questioned, thinking that they should take some sort of break.

“It’s only rushed because of what you did, so don’t be complaining so soon.” Bombshell spoke harshly as he heard the nonsense in his concern.

“Do you have people you have to say goodbye to? Didn’t think so.” Vortex added as he ran an optic down and up Crankcase, who squinted at the mech in both surprise and disbelief. The two of them made quite the villainous duo.

“Enough, both of you.” Hook warned as he shot and optic at Bombshell and Vortex, who straightened up at his pressing gaze.

“So we agree on leaving today?” Hook repeated, making sure the group agreed on it.

“I agree.” Reflector added as he looked at Hook eagerly. He had been waiting for this moment for, like, 2 hours already, and he was getting pretty restless.

“Great. Let’s go let Megatron know.” Hook said, standing up and walking to the exit with everyone else following.

“I think we should tell Soundwave.” Crankcase said, still shook about their encounter with Megatron.

“Yeah… “ Long Haul agreed, because in hindsight, that would be the smartest decision at the moment.

And off the team went, to let Megatron that they were done fooling around. This, was their official start.

 

* * *

Inside the hab suite sat two highly experienced players at the table, years apart from each other, but skilled nonetheless. Warpath, on the right of the table, and Hot Rod, on the left of it. The light of the hab suite was a dim, warm color, and the speedster watched the veterans expression change ever so slightly as he reviewed his hand, then back at the flop.

The pot was looking rather large, larger than any of them had anticipated, but this high grade was making it worth the risk; it was already to 36 ounces. Hot Rod had planned to talk to Warpath, but they were so entangled in the intensity of the game that Hot Rod had forgotten why he had even offered to play him. But, he didn’t think about that now.

Hot Rod had a sneaky smirk on his face, and Warpath was getting fustraited by his cockyness. What he didn’t know, was that Hot Rod was hoping that the community card would work in his favor, because the pot was growing to be extremely promising, and he couldn’t fathom the thought of Warpath rubbing this in his face the rest of the way to Earth. 

With an aggravated huff, Warpath called, “Raise,” as he placed more high-grade on the table. Now, Hot Rod was forced to call with 6 ounces more on the line, and he was very willing to do that. It was just a bluff, but he was hoping that he could get Warpath to fold with the increasing pressure. But he himself had raised the wager to 6 ounces, and that would mean that he was confident in his actions… but he was so hesitant at first. This reverse psychology was definitely working against both of them.

With that action, Hot Rod found himself saying, “Call,” and sacrificed his 6 ounces. The cards Warpath held must have been good, because he was chuckling to himself, which Hot Rod found very unnerving. 

The flop was an 8 of diamonds, a Jack of spades, and a 9 of hearts. Warpath would never cheat back on Cybertron, and he found a great amount of pride in that. But just this once, on the Calabi-Yau, he had to prove to Hot Rod that he was king in poker. He couldn’t make it too obvious, so he decided to orchestrate his cards in order so that he could end up with an 8 of spades and a 9 of diamonds. This flop had ensured that he had two pairs already, and with the next card he was going to reveal would only increase his chances of winning. Did he feel bad? Of course he didn’t. Hot Rod deserved this, he needs a taste of his own medicine.

And, it was tasty indeed. As Warpath flipped the next card, it revealed an 8 of clubs. Hot Rod shifted in his seat, clearly noticing Warpaths excitement at the card. Warpath placed his bet, which was an extra two ounces of high grade. Things weren’t looking so hot for the speedster, and his increase in the bet was only making his spark sink deeper into despair. Folding would look foolish at this point, and it would embarrass him beyond belief. Oh no, no need for that. So Hot Rod did the thing that he did best.

He bluffed some more. Instead of a call, which would be eight ounces of high grade, he went for a raise. A raise of ten ounces. Hot Rod savored the sudden change in emotion from the other bot as his servos tapped at the table rhythmically. Warpath clenched his servo, and huffed once more. Thinking… about what? Hot Rod couldn’t possibly know. He also didn’t know why he had bet so much, but he’ll soon find out sooner or later.

“You’re not cheating again, are you?” Warpath hesitated, his servos once again thumping the table in thought.

“What? No. Why would I do that?” Hot Rod paused for a moment, realizing that this was the same situation they had been in on Cybertron, the same day he met Prowl. Primus, was he lucky to have met him. Not only did he have this wonderful position on Earth One, but now he could actually start making long time friends, and that includes Warpath. That also meant that they had to stop fooling around with each other. Which, reminded Hot Rod of why they were playing poker right now in the first place. He had something he had to get off his chest.

“Why else would you do that?” Warpath boomed, glancing over at the jugs and gathered cubes of high grade currently taunting them both. Hot Rod smiled a little, and decided to just spit it out already.

“Warpath, there’s something that I need to tell you.” Hot Rod forced his vocalizer to spew, the hard part of the confession already over with. Once he started talking, there was no stopping him now.

“What’s that?” Warpath said with humor laced in his vocalizer as he pushed all of his cubes of high grade into the pot and crossed his arms over his chest, he had gone all in. A risky move in poker that happened when someone was really confident with their hand. Unexpectedly, Hot Rod didn’t even falter at the action. He was to focused on how he was going to say his next words that it seemed that he wasn’t even thinking about the game anymore, and that made Warpath’s optics glow in surprise, and his servos drop to the table in pure astonishment.

“Do you remember when Smokescreen placed a smoke bomb in your hab suite and nearly killed you?” Hot Rod said quickly, also pushing all of his high grade into the pot subconsciously, not even realizing what he was doing. Warpath watched in shock as he saw him do this, and Hot Rod didn’t even skip a beat. He was too focused on Warpath’s response, and Warpath answered quickly.

“Y-yes?” He staggered, so focused on just the game and barely noticing the question. With stakes so high, and him about the flip over the river, the last card to determine the win, how could Hot Rod be staring him right in the optics right now? His eyes should be glued to his servo, about the flip the next and final card. What kind of slag was this kid pulling? Was he so arrogant that he couldn’t even be bothered to look at the card, because he knew he had already won?

At the same exact moment the card was flipped and hit the table with a satisfying thud, Hot Rod blurted out his confession.

“I organized the prank with Smokescreen.”

“... ”

Warpath stared at the card, having done nothing to increase the value of his cards. He vented. Hot Rod finally remembered that they were playing, and looked at the card that was on the table, the river. It was a 5 of hearts. Hot Rod had won with a Straight Flush, cards in a chronological order, beating the Full House that Warpath had. Hot Rod’s confession hit Warpath hard as he realized what he had said.

“You what?” Warpath asked, thinking his auditory receptors hadn’t picked that up correctly.

“I won.” The speedster repeated, and sprawled his cards against the table.

“What did you have in your cards?’

“No. No, before that.” Warpath demanded, searching though his memory archive to see if he could hear it again.

“Oh, that. The, uh, whole, ‘I organized the prank with Smokescreen’ bit?” Hot Rod questioned, pushing his cards up and down the table nervously as he awaited the veteran’s response.

“Oh, Primus. You did that slag? Oh- kid- do you even realize all the slag you fragged up? Do you realize, that I almost died because of it? Do you know, how many days of therapy, how many surgeries I had to go though? The inability to speak? Do you even think?!” He managed to end, writhing at the other end of the table at Hot Rod, barely able to hold himself together. He was about to climb over the table. Again.

“No, apparently not. I thought this would be an easy way for me to tell you, over a game that you love, because I really didn’t intend for things to turn out the way that they did. It was truly my mistake, and I’m sorry.” Hot Rod said, looking at him, hoping he had gotten through to him.

Warpath vented loudly, and settled into his chair, realizing he had stood up. The kid actually apologized. He supposed, that he couldn’t have asked for more. An apology was all he needed, knowing what he had done for only a minute. A minute too much, really, but that seemed to be okay. If Hot Rod was willing to put his pride down for a moment, then Warpath, surely, could put his anger away for a moment as well.

“I accept your apology. I appreciate you coming out here and telling me that. Not any mech could do that. Takes courage.” He said thoughtfully. Even though he had to force it out, and he was still shaking with a now suppressed rage, the point was that the message was taken across, and Hot Rod found himself venting in relief.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” Hot Rod laughed, smiling at the table in amazement that he was able to pull this off. Not without the help of Prowl, of course. He’s the one who gave him the motivation to even talk to Warpath. He would be thanking Prowl later.

“Oh, and all the high grade?” Hot Rod said, smirking at the veteran as his servos reached over to the jugs.

“Yeah?” Warpath sighed, already knowing what was coming. He was going to say something stupid, and leave him to sulk over the defeat in the ‘comfort’ of his hab suite as he enjoyed the high grade in his own, all by himself.

“Keep it.”

 

* * *

 

It had been few hours since O.B.A. arrived to Earth, and getting adjusted to it wasn’t as hard as they had expected. They teleported to an abandoned beach along the west coast of a continent known as the United States of America. Long Haul suggested that they find a cave in which they can find energon in, and, so, the search began. It was along the coast, so the beach was where refuge would most likely be, being that they had to stay hidden from the lifeforms.

Vortex was able to spot a cave that seemed to be just a large rock formation, but as you take a closer look, turned out to be a large passage that lead into the cave. With excitement, Bombshell went to work and began ‘claiming’ sections of the cavern for himself. He argued that he needed space for his equipment, and no one questioned him after that. After all, they all needed some sort of weapons to defend themselves against the Earth One team, because they already knew they were there. They were to arrive here armed, that was certain. So, as Bombshell began setting up, the team had a mini meeting to discuss methods of action to take against Earth One.

“Okay, let's call this, officially, the first meeting on Earth. Let’s go over some rules to begin with, then I’ll pass out each of our assignments here.” Hook announced, glancing over at the team as they sat on the floor of the cave in a semi circle around him. Their attention never averted from his figure, which made Hook feel at the center of attention, which is what he wanted.

“Do not engage with the lifeforms. They are extremely fragile, and they are heavily armed and can prepare air, ground, and water strikes quickly. Do not be spotted by them. If you must leave the cavern, wander only to the right side of the beach, for it is forbidden for humans to travel this section of the beach. The large body of water is also a good place to hide, if you must. Do I need to elaborate on anything?” Hook inquired, looking down at the team in question. They all shook their heads, and looked admittedly bored. Hook tried to hurry up his explanation, because he wanted to start organizing things already, too.

“Right. Moving on to the assignments. I’ve given it some thought, and I know who will be perfect for what job. If you have any inquiries as to the purpose of your job, you can consult me at a later time. The first job will be Supply Movement and Management Officer, SMM for short. This will be assigned to Long Haul.” Hook said, and everyone pretty much saw this coming. He was the heavy weight lifter, and was the strongest in this regard amongst the group. Long Haul waved them off and smiled bashfully before returning the attention to Hook.

“Congratulations, Long Haul. Next, we have the Logistics NCO, LNCO for short. Crankcase, you will be my subordinate and help me keep track of the duties of the others and document them. I am the Logistics Officer.” Hook demanded, and caught a glimpse of how ticked off Crankcase looked after the announcement of his assignment. Hook stiffened but the other mech never commented, so he continued by clicking his vocalizer.

“The position of Tactical Weaponry Officer goes to Bombshell. I believe he may already understand the purpose of his job.” Hook said as he glanced over at Bombshell, separated from the group at his lab, and he held a thumbs up with a gleeful expression on his features. Despite this reassuring gesture, Hook would go into detail about the safety procedures with him later.

“Vortex, you can be his lab assistant. Or there is another option. You can be an assistant to Reflector, who will be our Epsianage Spy. You can choose your career choice later, I understand you may need some time.” Hook allowed a slot of silence, in case there were any interjections, which there were none. The group seemed to shift anxiously as they waited for him to continue.

“On to the last note. I want you all, after you've set up all that is necessary, to train or practice hand to hand drills outside. This is a skill that is very much lacking with us all, and we all need to touch up on this. I better see you all out on the beach practicing together later today. You are dismissed.”

A collective, ‘yes sir’ was shared between some the group as they all got up and separated, finding things to do quickly. Crankcase walked against the wall with Long Haul, looking pissed off and throwing servo gestures left and right. Hook figured that if he had something to say about his assignment, he'd ought to talk to him about it. Complaining won't get him anywhere like it did on Cybertron. They were on Earth now, and things were going to get more formal. Or, so they thought.

 

* * *

 

“I can't believe this. Logistics NCO? I don't want to sit down and do nothing as Reflector gets to explore around Earth at his own will. I didn’t sign up to even come here, let alone receive some low end job. And, on another note, NCO? As in, subordinate to Hook? No way.” Crankcase barated as he crossed his arms over his chassis in frustration. He felt like he definitely needed at least a pint of energon right now.

Long Haul simply shook his head at how childish he was acting, and Crankcase caught a glimpse of this.

“What? Don’t act like you would be happy in the situation I’m in. At least you have a job you were practically made for. I’m just… an ordinary mech here.” Crankcase sank into his frame a little towards the end, not really expecting that to come out of his vocalizer like the way it did.

“Well, look on the bright side, would you rather be a janitor?” Long Haul joked, playfully pushing his arm in an inviting manner. He knew that he had been in this position before, and knew it brought back old memories.

“Ha, I guess not. But still… what a lame job. Logistics NCO… “ He said as he looked away in defeat.

“You could just keep sulking over it, or, you know, just get over it. Unless you want to request a change, your job won’t be anything more than typing reports. Even with that in mind, I highly doubt that there would be anything more interesting than Logistics though.” Long Haul suggested thoughtfully as he tried to think of other possible jobs he could have here on Earth, but nothing came to mind, making it more difficult to reassure him.

“Eh, I’ll think of something. Trust me, I could come up with some slag that would definitely get me a different job, like beach patrol or something. Actually… That’s not a bad idea… “ Crankcase said to himself as he looked around to find Hook, and spotted him scolding Bombshell over something. Now would not be the time to bring it up, but he would sit on this until the perfect opportunity to request a change. But for now… 

“Not a bad idea, indeed. Anyway, I’ve got some things I want to put up in my side of the cavern.” Long Haul said, gesturing towards the deep end of the cave, and Crankcase realized he had nothing to do.

“Hey, I’ll help you, what do ‘ya need?”

And with that, Crankcase fantasized with Long Haul as to how exciting the patrol would be when the Autobots finally came down to Earth. While they conversed, and the rest of the crew settled into the cave, and Vortex felt so terribly alone. 

He didn’t find solace in speaking with the others about his endeavors, and he never would, but he really wished he had Bombshell to himself right now. Actually, he didn’t want Bombshell near him. Or, did he? Vortex didn’t know. He didn’t know what to think, or how to act, or how to choose. Did he want to train to be a spy, or a scientist? The thought crawled through his spark and his entire framework as he sat outside the cave, hidden from the rest of the crew. He vented loudly.

Vortex looked beyond the cave for once, and found that the water was quiet and peaceful. He looked up into the blue atmosphere.

The star in the sky was really, really pretty. Nothing like the moon on Cybertron. It cast an evening glow, a low, tangy orange, across the deeply saturated blue of the ocean as it sat above the water. The two forces of color mingled with each other above the surface of the water in a calming manner, as if they were slow dancing to a song unheard. It was peacefully reflecting light into his optics, and he savored the colors as he reflected his own thoughts onto the still, sway of the water. This was really serene. The mechs on Cybertron never get to see this. This is mine. Vortex thought as he continued to look on.

For the time that he had been functioning, he never thought he was the type of mech to stare at the moon, or at the ocean in this case, just for the Pit of it. But, this was different. His thoughts were fogged and clouded, and he just wanted to forget about them. And, forget about them he did. The ocean took away his problems and replaced them with the sound of a rushing current of a wave, or the mellow star above sinking below. He knew it would be back tomorrow.

 

***

“Approaching destination. Approximately fifty three minutes until temporary outpost. Activating atmospheric S.C.F. protocol.” 

The control room rumbled slowly under the pressure of the atmosphere, and everyone was getting ready in their pods. The Calabi-Yau was just barely grazing over Earth’s atmosphere, only slightly getting caught by it’s orbit. The now invisible starship was preparing to launch the pods into a preset destination, one that the A.I. systems deemed to be the most effective place to excavate energon.

“It’s so cramped in here.” Hot Rod groaned as he struggled to get comfortable in the tight space whilst trying not to disturb his officer too much. The tiny, white pod was resting on the tip of the starship, waiting to be let free. Hot Rod had imagined what their departure off the starship would be like, maybe a cool flash of neon color or something, and this is definitely not what he had in mind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be out soon. Just give it about 20 minutes.” Prowl reassured, checking in on the vitals of the pod for the hundredth time. The speedster tried not to sound too torqed by his reply, and instead just looked out of the window. From there, he could see the pod next to him, which held both Jetfire and Seaspray, who looked like they were having a really serious conversation. 

In fact, upon closer inspection, Seaspray looked like he was having some sort of panic attack. Hot Rod looked on, worry filling his processor. Jetfire looked like he pulled out something that floated around the room, and buzzed by Seaspray, making him giggle. Before he could become anymore confused, Prowl pulled him from his distraction.

“What are you looking at?” He asked, finished messing around with the visual screen. It looked as though he had analyzed the course in which they were going to lead to Earth.

Hot Rod figured that he didn’t need to tell Prowl about Seaspray if Jetfire could handle it, only if it became a problem when they reached Earth would he mention it.

“Nothing, sir. Just looking at the ship is all.” Hot Rod said, looking back out the window. This time, he was actually looking at the starship.

“Do you think that you will miss it? I happened to notice that trouble seems to just follow you.” Prowl joked, surprisingly, and stood up from his chair to look out the same window next to him.

“Oh, not even a bit. I’ve been itching to get my pedes on Earth ever since you told me about the trip.” Hot Rod said, looking back at the officer. At the mention of Earth, his processor began to race with ideas and possible outcomes from their arrival.

“Really? Well, that’s good to hear. I’m looking forward to what this could bring for the Autobots’ future.” Prowl looked out the window, deep in thought. This was a more sophisticated outlook as opposed to Hot Rod’s daydreams about racing in the streets, but he felt the same way. Totally.

Despite the friendly conversation, a question arose and seemed to bubble at the surface of his vocalizer, a question that shook him to his spark the more thought he put into it. And he didn't want to think about it anymore. He had to get this out of his head.

“Prowl? I've got something I've been meaning to ask you.” Hot Rod said, catching the attention of the officer. He glanced quickly at the speedster, giving him a questioning look.

“What is it?”

“Recalibration. Final preparations. Prepare for departure. Approximately five more minutes until launch.”

The voice of the automated Calabi-Yau echoed through the pod, stopping their conversation midway. The two mechs made their way to their chairs, and Prowl opened up the directions on the visual monitor and sent them to the other pods. He was pressing keypads and addressing warnings as they popped up. The interior pod was flashing with the quick spritz of color from the screen, and Hot Rod was glued to Prowl’s servos, quickly jumping left and right. He seemed so focused, like nothing could break his concentration. As if he had forgotten he was going to asked an important question.

The speedster vented and sank into his chair. He could save his question for later, he supposed. For now, he can just bask in the comfort of having someone else take care of the flashing monitor.

Jetfire had taken the appropriate precautions on the screen as he and Seaspray sat down in their own pod and prepared for the launch. Warpath had shared his pod with Smokescreen, which was accompanied by silence from the two. It may not have been the smartest idea, but it worked for the time being.

The Calabi-Yau was now launching the three pods into Earth, followed by a brisk exit from the starship itself. It was to return to Cybertron and remain there until Earth One has completed their mission.

 

* * *

 

The pods had landed peacefully along the west coast of the continent North America, and it took awhile for the mechs to gather their footing on the strange ground. 

They were excited that they get to explore this new planet to them. Yet, Seaspray couldn't help his apprehension about his environment. Everything seemed to scare him, followed by laughs and gentle ressurments from Jetfire that made him feel better. Hot Rod was on his pedes, looking for any sign of Decepticon activity, but he was just overlooking everything. Each of them seemed to find themselves something to do, even before they found a spot to settle.

Smokescreen gave the group tips as to what they needed to look for in a hiding out base camp, which they all took in and found a trench by the ocean. If Smokescreen had been bothered by sitting with Warpath for an hour, he clearly didn't show it. 

However, Warpath couldn't be more angry at the situation. He was being torqued by every little thing, pointing out little grievances he found, left and right. Eventually, he did calm down to a point that he wouldn't snap at who ever talked to him.

The group had traversed not that long before they spotted a large trench that was shared by the sea. It was the perfect, discrete location for setting up a base. 

Smokescreen was entertaining himself by looking around the camp, making sure it was the absolutely perfect place to be hidden from anyone and any mech. He took note of a fairly small forest that inhabited near the region.

The ocean they settled by elated Seaspray, and he was very eager to explore it. He’d never even experienced the feeling of water before. It was so inviting, so mystical. What lay beneath that crystal clear water?

“Is it safe to go into the water?” Seaspray said as he looked back at the group for confirmation. The group seemed pretty busy assessing the beachy area, and Hot Rod turned his head.

“Well, don't wait up for us.” Hot Rod said, knowing very well that Seaspray was practically going to jump out of his frame from excitement.

“Wait- Seaspray,” Jetfire called as he heard the commotion taking place behind him. Seaspray hung his shoulders, but quickly waved it off and jogged toward the scientist.

“Yes?”

“Your frame was built for Cybertron, not Earth. Before you can even touch the water, I need to make sure that your metal won't react with possible corrosive elements in the water. I also need to add extensions to your externals to protect you from the pressure of the water before you can go in.” Jetfire said as Seaspray walked closer to him. His optics instantly dimmed disappointedly as he heard the news, and Jetfire noticed the dramatic change.

Jetfire supposed that he could set up certain equipment later, and only prepare the essential mechanisms for his upgrades. Seaspray didn't have anything to do anyway, and it wasn't much of a problem to start them.

“Actually, we can get started now, if you'd like. It won’t be a problem.”

Seaspray looked at the sand and figured that he was most likely busy right now. They had just arrived to Earth, and the last thing he would want, whilst everyone is preparing, is to be a burden. Jetfire gave him a patient look, allowing him to think.

“Oh, no. Um, that's okay, I can wait.” He decided, and looked behind his shoulder.

“It looks like you still need to set up some things. Can I help you?” Seaspray offered hesitantly instead. Jetfire looked back at the mess he had layered on the sand behind him.

“Ah, it appears so. If you'd liked, you can accompany me for now. I’m not sure if you know where I need to put my equipment, but maybe you can tell me about what you need for your upgrades? Just give me an idea as to what you might want for when you are excavating in the ocean.”

Jetfire turned and motioned for Seaspray to follow him. They loosely laid out where they would put everything near the wall of the rock, and Jetfire looked at the large rock formation that served as both cover from lifeforms and as a nice wall to cement a visual monitor.

As he was designing the layout of his makeshift lab, he noticed that Seaspray wasn't really doing much other than running his servos through the sand, looking bored. He clicked his vocalizer.

“Seaspray?”

“Yes?” 

Suddenly, Seaspray felt bashful at his state. He wasn't even doing anything, just sitting on the sand feeling the warmth of the star in the sky. He wouldn't dare to even start a conversation, he always felt so dumb when he talked to Jetfire, an esteemed scientist whose knowledge is far more vast than his own.

“What did you have in mind for your upgrades?” The scientist said, turning back to his equipment and arranging them.

What did he want? He didn’t know, he’d never even gave it any thought. He just sat and pondered the question. Jetfire shifted a little at his pause.

“Maybe you’d want to… dig through tunnels in the ocean, preserve plants for research, collect sediment samples, things of that sort?” He suggested, finally getting to turning on some of the equipment.

“Uh, Yes. All those things.” The other said, standing up now and a little excited. That sounded amazing. He would be able to study plants so efficiently with all those upgrades.

At his response, Jetfire simply laughed.

“Okay, we can do that. Anything else you'd want, just let me know, and we can work something out together.” 

Jetfire looked at some rough blueprints and began to analyze them. He looked back at Seaspray and beckoned to him with a hand motion.

Seaspray shot up and walked over to him. We. Not just Jetfire, the both of them. Together. He had never felt so involved before. All this was so new, even though he felt like he wouldn't be of much help. But, that didn't matter, as long as Jetfire needed him.

“Come over here.”

Jetfire put his servo on Seaspray's shoulder invitingly, trying to get him to feel involved in the process of development. Seaspray has it bad enough being a pushover in front of the rest of the group, so it would be beneficial if he gave him something to look forward to. Maybe working on this together will increase his confidence.

“This is what I've developed so far… Ah, hold on.”

Jetfire stopped and crossed his arms in thought. Seaspray looked at him in confusion. He felt the warmth of his servo immediately leave, and he missed it instantly.

“Is something wrong?” Seaspray asked, doubting the suggestion of an upgrade already. Maybe he should have never offered to search the ocean. He was scared enough when it came to leaving the starship on the pod, the panic attack proved it, and now he was going to try to explore the ocean?

Jetfire looked at the blueprints and shook his helm.

“I need to speak to Prowl. You can look over the sketch if you want. Just give me three minutes?” Jetfire spoke and walked over to Prowl. He was speaking to Hot Rod, who seemed very bored by the scolding he was receiving.

Hmmm. What now?

Seaspray looked at the blueprint, which was a sketch of a possible extension to be added to his left arm. It looked like an operable compartment that safely extracted small sized plants for air tight preservation, with little blades and a hidden transparent epoxy glass dome integrated into his arm.

Though there did seem to be a problem. This type of extension would be very material extensive. Yes, it required a lot of supplies in order to install it. Materials that they didn't have yet; some of which seemed like he could gather right now.

He looked to see what Jetfire was doing, and now he was engrossed in a very heated back and forth between Hot Rod and Prowl. That looked like it would take a while.

He didn't have anything to do while he waited for Jetfire to finish.

Seaspray decided that he would look for some of the supplies on his own. He had asked for permission way to many times already, he was probably already annoying to Jetfire at this point. If Jetfire needed him, he could always just send a ping to him.

Seaspray began to walk away from the group, and continued along the long stretch of rock until it began to taper into the sand. As he turned the corner, he saw a wall of dense trees mingling with the sand, and began to walk through.

He felt the air pressure heavy against his armor, and all the vegetation looked similar, but different at the same time. His plating was scratching and ripping the plants, and he was covered in a wet, grassy residue. He felt really gross, and wanted to turn back, but he would be ridiculed, for sure. He had to at least come out with something.

He was looking for a strong material that would repel the water from entering through his kibble, and a large leaf would do the trick. The aim was to study the molecular structure of the surface of the leaf in order to determine how the water doesn’t seep through. Once they’ve obtained this information, they could develop an efficient layer to go atop his armor to protect him from the water.

But, alas, he was not having a good time. He kept hearing rustling in the grass, a shuffle in the trees, and he swore he had heard a Decepticon. He figured that it may just be his paranoia kicking in, but he couldn’t help it. The more he listened, the sound of the wind was certainly calling imminent death to him.

In addition to this, he was having difficulty finding a good enough leaf. Only a little while longer, and then he would turn back. He really couldn’t take all this for much longer. He needed some sort of distraction from all the death that reaped through everything, every shadow he looked at.

He wondered what Jetfire was doing right now. Would he be wondering what he was doing? Hmmm, maybe not. Maybe he would be? Seaspray really had no way of knowing. He couldn’t get a coherent grasp of his personality either; he wasn’t exactly the predictable type. All he knew was that he was outrageously nice, and he felt he was especially nice to him. Seaspray had never had anyone like him before in his life, this was like a blessing from Primus himself. But, it seemed to good to be true. Could there be something he wasn’t seeing?

Before Seaspray could humor this thought any longer, he heard yet another rustle in the brush. He swiftly turned to the side, moving his entire frame in the process and looked for the source of the movement. He quickly stopped his action and yelped quickly as he felt a long, sharp pain scrap the side of his propeller. He heard his metal crash onto a tree, a loud crashing noise, and he winced in pain. He instinctively brought his servo to the battered fan, and slowly felt that the three blades had each been bent harshly. He would need to get these repaired, because they would be of no function in his alternative mode.

He turned back to the tree he had scraped, and ran his servos into the deep engravings the blades of the propellers had left behind. He vented, frustrated that he had allowed such a stupid mistake. However, this frustration was heavily clouded and swiftly forgotten about by the intense pain surging through his upper frame. It felt like a sting that kept getting worse and worse, always pacing rough pressure upon the same cut, over and over again. He cringed for a while as he let the pain engross his thoughts.

Dear Primus, this should have never happened. He should have never even came out here, into the dangerous forest. He should have just stayed and waited for Jetfire. That’s it, he wasn’t going to play hero anymore, that wasn’t in his place. Just stick to the ocean, just stick to the ocean, just stick to the-

*vvzzash!*

Seaspray felt the left side of his frame launch backward into a tree by a force, and his head hit the bark with a loud thud. His optics shot off, and he was sent reeling, trying to regain his balance again. He grasped the sides of the tree from behind with one of his servos, and a slow surge of pain shot through his chassis, and he tried to move his arm. Why pain? When he couldn’t swivel his arm joint, he onlined his optics and looked over to his shoulder damaged shoulder.

It took a while for his optics to recalibrate, but when they did, he wished they hadn’t. His left shoulder had a large, gaping hole, freshly steaming with heat from some sort of blast. He watched in horror as the energon slowly gushed thickly down his paralyzed arm, glowing and excreting a strong scent. It knew was it was probably supposed to feel hot, burning maybe, but he felt nothing.

He felt light headed and queasy, watching all that energon spurt out was not a good sign. What is happening to him? His thoughts were lazy, and he couldn’t finish what he was thinking, not being able to piece together what was happening.

*vvzzzaash!*

Again, that noise, and he felt a vibration from the top of the tree travel down the spine of the bark. The smell of burnt wood filled his receptors, and a heating sensation barely graced his upper helm, causing him to look up to see the source of the heat. There was a burnt, smoldering hole in the bark of the tree, right above his head. He was venting harshly as his spark was racing a mile per second as he tried to figure out what was going on.

After some broken trains of thought, he had a stroke of genius. But the more he thought of it, it was more of a major panicked warning his processor tried to tell him, and things weren't looking to well.

Was he being shot at?


	11. The Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seaspray is found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for those who are sensitive to graphic descriptions of violence.

"Just one last rotation, and…”

Warpath grunted as Jetfire continued to roll out his arm, making him vent in and out at the action. This was an exercise that Warpath was supposed to conduct every other day, and the scientist was just showing him the ropes for today.

“All done. I was able to get a rough estimation as to how your ventilation systems are working now, and they look to be in perfect condition. You’re recovering well.” He said with a smile behind his mask, taking a step back to allow Warpath to stretch on the medical slab. The veteran sat up and hung his pedes over the edge, ready to leap off.

“Thanks Doc, ‘fer fixing me up. Wouldn’t have asked for a different mech.” The old war veteran said, twisting his joint in satisfaction. Jetfire smiled at him. He looked over at Cali, who was perched by a visual monitor on the wall. She waved at him with her tiny servo happily, and Jetfire laughed and gave a tiny wave back.

“He's the best!” She squeaked, jumping on her mini slab, which was her very seashell.

“No problem.” Jetfire said to Warpath, helping him off onto the soft sand, and walking him to his own little makeshaft room, a little ways from his lab. He pinged Cali and told her to stay in the lab area. They didn’t have complete privacy in any of their habsuites, but it was good enough for them. Until they could upgrade them, at least.

“Come by anytime you have an issue, you’re welcome to stop by the lab if you want.” Jetfire said as he was just about to return walking back to the lab before he was stopped in his tracks by Warpath.

“Hey, ‘bout that… actually, I do have something I wanna say.“ He said, taking a seat on his own, personal slab, covered in a fresh layer of sand that he didn’t seem to bother to wipe off.

“What’s been concerning you?” He said, confusion lacing his vocalizer. A problem? Already?

“Cut the slag, you don’t gotta talk like that to me. Just act natural.” The mech said, a little annoyed at his over politeness. Jetfire could loosen up a bit if he tried, he was sure of it.

This prompted a small amount of time from the other, as he reevaluated his statement and tried to correct his original grammer to something more friendly.

“What’s wrong? Has something been bothering you?” He said, a little unsure of himself this time, but Warpath seemed pleased and answered his question.

“More like some _one_. Have you had the chance to talk to-” He stopped himself and looked around, just to make sure no one was listening to them.

“Smokescreen?”

 _This_ was no surprise to Jetfire. Everyone on the team had their own suspicions about that mech ever since he joined the team. It was something about the way he conducted himself, the way he never explained anything to anyone. He was so mysterious… and not in a good way.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to him before. He was telling me about the smoke bombs he wanted to create. He had lied and said that he'd use them when we got to Earth, on the Decepticons, supposedly.” He paused as he remembered the event, not too long ago.

“That proved to be wrong, though.” He said as he tilted his helm with a sad smile at Warpath. The veteran huffed angrily as he sat on his slab, looking up at mech before him.

“Yeah, I heard about that.” He said sarcastically, clicking his vocalizer.

“But the more I think ‘bout it… that’s a bit… strange, isn’t it? I mean, think about it.” Warpath said, sitting up a bit on the slab, raising his servos in question.

“Why’d he join us? Does he have anything to gain by coming down here and showing ‘them Decepticreeps who’s boss?” The veteran questioned, eyeballing Jetfire as if he knew all the answers.

The jet had no idea what to say to that, he genuinely didn’t know why Smokescreen wanted to accompany them. It really _didn’t_ make sense the more he thought of it. Supposedly, he was in jail before all this, and all he wanted was to get out. But, he didn't have to become a member, did he?

“Hmmm.” He pondered aloud, looking off to the side in thought.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. Just some food for thought, I suppose.” Warpath said as he laid flat on his slab, tired from all the conspiracy talk. He was just about ready into recharge now, already offlining his optics.

“Food for thought indeed. I will most certainly ponder this some more at the lab. Thank you for letting me know of your concerns, Warpath.” Jetfire said as he looked at how relaxed the veteran appeared already.

“Right. Be seeing ‘ya, Doc.” He said sleepily, and began his recharge. Jetfire was a just a little taken aback by the fact he was still calling him ‘Doc,’ but he didn’t mind it as much anymore. It felt a little sentimental now, and he wasn’t about to change that.

As he was walking back, he noticed that the warmth of the star had vanished, and was replaced with the light of a moon that wasn’t that far by. It was stunning, it seemed to glow brighter than the star. However, his heating systems had to automatically kick in at the change in temperature. He liked the way the day looked at this hour, dark, yet, inviting.The stars in the distance shone brightly from Earth, despite the dark of the sky. It was so beautiful, to see the ocean catching the moons reflections and casting them to him. He enjoyed the walk.

He returned to the lab, going over what he was going to be doing, and what he had done already. He had just finished up with Warpath, had a loud _discussion_ with Prowl and Hot Rod earlier, and… Seaspray. He was supposed to work on the upgrades with him before he had left. Where was he now? Still at the lab, maybe?

When he was close enough to see if the mech was there from afar, Jetfire could see that he wasn’t there. He might have left, but where would he have gone? Cali may have seen where he went.

He walked up to where he placed the little seashell, and saw that she was recharging peacefully on it. He smiled at the adorable sight, and tried to tip-toe away. Jetfire didn’t want to wake her up, but she suddenly flew up and swirled around the jet eagerly. He started laughing at her quickness.

“What is it?” He laughed as his optics followed her glowing figure. Her frame was glittering in the moonlight, she looked so beautiful. Brainstorm did a wonderful job painting her. _Brainstorm_. He missed him. He wished he was here right now, looking at the ocean with him.

Cali snapped him out of his thoughts by jumping on his shoulder hastily, making cute little impatient noises.

“Seaspraaay!!” She said, shaking her head.

“Yes? Do you know where he is?” Jetfire asked, remembering why he came to talk to her in the first place.

She nodded her head quickly, transformed, and flew ahead of him, her arm extended and pointing towards the forest.

“The forest?” He said, confused as to why Seaspray would wander in there.

She nodded her head again, and flew to a table nearby. She stood on some sprawled out blue prints, and looked back at Jetfire, who was following her gaze. It was the same sketch that he was showing Seaspray earlier, with the extension upgrade to his arm compartment.

After some analyzation, he figured there was only one logical explanation for him to venture into the forest.

“Hmm, he went to go look for some materials, I assume?” He concluded with a cocked eyebrow, looking back at Cali for confirmation. She nodded her head, satisfied.

“Yes! Seaspray went into the forest!” Cali said, sitting down on the blue prints with her feet extended before her, looking up cutely at the larger mech.

“Okay. I’ll send him a ping to see what he’s up too.”

The scientist sent out the transmission, expecting an immediate response. When he didn’t receive it, he sent out a second one, becoming a bit anxious.

“He’s not… “ He never finished the thought, not really talking to anyone in particular. Cali shifted her weight nervously. Something must be wrong with his radio system, he figured. He pinged Prowl, to test his theory.

_“Yes?”_

_It works?_

“Oh, Prowl, sorry to disturb you.” He said hastily, not expecting him to pick up at all. Since he was already here…

“Uh, I have a concern.” He said, mindlessly watching Cali fly up and snuggle his finger, giving him a worried look.

_“Go on.”_

“I’ve been trying to contact Seaspray, but he won’t pick up.” He felt Cali squeeze his finger.

_“What’s the problem?”_

“Sir, Seaspray is in the forest, while the star is out of the sky. It’s become dark, and we don’t know what’s out there. He may be lost, hurt even. I think we should send someone over to look for him. He won’t answer my pings-”

_“If Seaspray was in trouble, the first person he would contact is you, don’t you think?”_

“Yes, sir, but-”

_“If you really think its a problem, Jetfire, then we can send someone over. I know that Smokescreen has given the forest a good once-over. He should know his way around it. I need you here to take care of Warpath, and to tend to Seaspray when he comes back.”_

He would have been perfectly willing to find Seaspray himself if it meant that Smokescreen wouldn’t, but he was done arguing with the officer. After all, Prowl is just trying to look after the team. He was just a bit… worried is all.

“Yes, sir.”

_“Go ahead and ping Smokescreen, and let me know what the outcome is whenever you can. Good night.”_

“Good night, sir.” He said, venting loudly.

It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay. All he needed to do was to place trust in a person he didn’t trust. It was all a mental game, he had to prepare for this. He could handle it, surely.

He clicked his vocalizer, and sat on a medical slab. Cali flew up to sit on his shoulder, and he patted her with his servo. Here goes nothing.

  
* * *

  
He felt his ventilation system kick up all of a sudden as he leaned against the tree. It was dark, cold, and he was being shot at by someone. How could this be happening?

Seaspray wasn't just being paranoid. It wasn’t just random noises he had heard, that he may have made up. No, he was _actually_ being chased, and he was beginning to regret coming to Earth on the terms of such a foolish dream. Why had he made such a dumb decision?

He felt his spark pumping out of his chassis at a rate in which he had never experienced, as if he was already dead. A dead mech walking.

He started to stagger forward, propelling himself off the tree he was resting on. He had to leave this area if he had _any_ chance of surviving. The smell of smoke filled his air inhalants, and he started coughing. He was done sulking on the tree about how miserable he felt, now was the time to try to evade the enemy. Whomever they might be.

He started walking when he suddenly saw the trees in front of him twist quickly, and before he could catch himself, he felt the pressure of the ground on the right side of his frame. It was cold, dark, and he was on the ground. He was just _begging_ to be killed.

He heard footsteps approaching him. They were long, heavy strides, crunching whatever was beneath them. He started shivering in fear, grabbing the grass roughly with his servos.

“Please, don’t. Don’t. _Don’t_.” He kept repeating, feeling himself start to cry out. His propeller began rushing with blood twisting pain again, and he let out a yelp.

“Aw, look. He’s begging already.” He heard a voice say, and he felt himself tense up at the sheer strength of the vocalizer. The voice came from just a few feet away, and Seaspray allowed himself some time to say a prayer to Primus. Before he could even start, a small servo was placed on his injured shoulder, and it pushed him to lay flat on the ground.

In this position, he could finally see the Decepticon accordingly, not that it mattered at this point. He was as good as dead. But it did matter, because he was meet with two frames, two faces, and two voices, not just one.

“I can see that. But, he’s on the ground already. Ugh, no fun. I thought he’d at _least_ be able to put up a fight.” He heard the one with a teal helm say. He seemed to give him a disappointed look, his visor dimming, and the taller one pushed him aside. Seaspray felt his world beginning to spin, as if he was losing his concentration on the conversation he was listening to.

“Stop complaining, Vortex. He’s only losing consciousness at this point, no biggie. Just give it two more minutes, then we can have our fun.” The one with a flashy purple chassis said, looking back toward his companion in a suggestive manner. Seaspray may have said something, may not have, but the next thing he new, he was in the sand, out of the forest, and he was able to see the sky and stars in the distance.

It wasn’t as cold as the soil, and he felt his frame had sunken inside a little. He onlined his optics, and felt around his environment. He was suspended by a rock, his back leaning against it. When he looked around, he noticed that he wasn’t that far from the forest. He thought he saw another figure hidden within the trees. Another Decepticon, maybe? He was delusional at this point. He looked forward and saw the two mechs from before staring at him.

“You said two minutes, Bombshell. _Two slagging minutes_.” The teal one said, earlier he was referred to as Vortex, so that’s what Seaspray would deem him. Vortex looked quite annoyed, and examined his frame. Seaspray looked back at him anxiously. Was he going to do something to him?

“Yeah, well, this one is slower than I thought. He’s got a pretty useless function by the looks of it, too. Hey, can you hear me?” Bombshell said, who was also getting way too close for comfort. Seaspray tensed up and grasped at the rock, trying to lift his body away, but he couldn’t. He felt a billion of sharp pains jab at his nerves and wires, causing him to cry out.

“What’s your alt?” Vortex said, and Seaspray couldn’t find his voice. Even he wanted to talk, which he didn’t, he felt like his vocalizer had been ripped of it’s port. The pain was coursing through him, and he couldn’t speak in utter shock of the entire situation.

This wasn’t happening to him. This wasn’t real. He never left the lab, he never went in the forest, and he sure as Pit never got shot at. This couldn’t be real. This can’t be real. For the sake of Primus… this was actually happening. He was going to die at the hands of Decepticons. He never got to say goodbye to anyone. Not to Prowl, not to Hot Rod, not to Warpath. Not to Jetfire.

“Dammit, this one doesn’t talk! We finally get to put our servos on an Autobot, one we can fool around with, but he’s too damn boring. Bombshell, you promised that-” But before Vortex could finish, Bombshell had pushed him aside, and began to fiddle with his own servo, trying to pull out something.

“I told you to wait didn’t I? Step aside. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

The purple mech, Bombshell, stepped forward, kneeling down next to Seaspray. His frame began to shiver, and he forgot all about the pain. He shoved his working servo to the sand, and tried to propel himself away from Bombshell. The mech simply laughed at his attempt to get away, and grabbed his servo harshly.

He pulled it up against the rock with a slam, and brought something from out of his own servo. It was something long and pointy, and he was aiming it at his head. Seaspray felt his spark drop at the sight of it, casting a dark shadow against the moonlight. He never realized how much he hated needles. He was squirming under his grasp, and he was kicking his feet to the best of his ability, throwing up sand in the process. Vortex huffed and brushed it off.

“What?” Bombshell said, almost giving in to a burst of laughter and losing his control, but he was able to maintain it and persist with the question.

“Does this scare you? Aw, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you with it… that is, if you tell me what your alt mode is.”

Seaspray opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He was paralyzed with fear. He felt utterly terrified. He wanted to say something, but he just responded with a glitched noise, to his embarrassment. Bombshell gave him a sympathetic expression, but it seemed extremely forced.

“Not much of a talker? Okay, that’s okay. A bit boring, but… I understand.” He said, retracting the needle and leaning closer to the mech. Seaspray wanted to say something so badly. But, he couldn’t. All he could do was watch in anticipation as his vocalizer clenched in it's port.

“Except, I _don’t_ understand. _At all_. Not in the least. All I want for you to do is talk, yet you can’t do the simplest of things. I mean, how hard can it _be_?!” He suddenly snapped, pulling Seaspray up by the chassis, causing him to shriek in terror. Bombshell tilted his helm in curiosity.

“Oh! Looks like you _can_ speak. Adorable. But let’s try to get a little more from you. What if I brought _this_ back?” He said, pulling the needle out again, shooting out of his finger swiftly. He was scraping the side of Seaspray’s helm softly with it, a series of small scratches forming. The yellow paint was chipping off, and Bombshell got a devilish idea.

“N-n-n-n-” Seaspray found himself sputtering out, unable to finish the thought. The scratching on his helm was making him increasingly nervous, and he felt his spark beating hard again.

“What? What is it? Spit it- Spit it out!” He cried, leaning closer and closer to the mech. Seaspray had to offline his optics, unable to concentrate on his speaking.

“N-n-no!” He said, and he felt the needle remove from his face. He vented, and onlined his optics again. His spark was steadily beating at a high percentage, and Seaspray felt himself relax, a relief washing over him.

But, when he saw Bombshell stare at him blindly, he felt the worry crawl into his frame again. Bombshell’s grip on his chassis tightened slowly, painfully.

“ _Wrong_.”

Bombshell stabbed the side of his face with the needle, and he began carving into it, the screech of metal on metal filling the air. Energon was bleeding out, spurting out of control. Seaspray screamed in pain, and offlined his optics for the third time. He felt the pain reverberate throughout his thoughts, and he was momentarily blinded by it’s quickness.

“Vortex, come over here.” He said, dropping Seaspray against the rock when he finished with the torture. He lay limp on it, the pain fresh and burning on his face. It was so numb, much like his willingness to return to the rest of the team at this point. Was there even a point? Why should he suffer this? What did he do? Primus, what did he do?

“I’m already there.” Vortex said, leaning over him. He saw his face quirk with interest, staring at his new scar. Seaspray heard himself whimpering, crying out occasionally, but he couldn’t feel his vocalizer doing it.

“Check this out.” The other mech said, wiping away the energon with his thumb. He looked proud. Seaspray wanted to cry.

“Oh, you’ve got a nice touch.” Vortex said, tracing the scar with his fingers gently, his visor dimming as he stared.

“A Decepticon insignia, I like it.” Vortex laughed as he retracted his servo and stared at Seaspray’s frame.

_Oh Primus, what did I do to deserve this?_

“Right? I’m a genius. But, I still have a problem.”

_When is this going to end?_

“You- still need to tell me what your alt mode is.” Bombshell said, pointing the needle at his chest and lightly letting it drag across it.

“I’m curious. We’re both curious.” He said, looking at the ocean. Again, another bright idea popped into his processor.

“Vortex, do you remember that promise I made back on Raydon?” Bombshell said, looking away from Seaspray to look at Vortex, his grasp on his chassis tightening. Seaspray didn’t care what they did at this point, he just wanted it to stop.

“What was that? Remind me.” Vortex said, his vocalizer glossed with humor.

“I promised that we’d practice water torture whenever we got our servos on a test subject.” Bombshell began to lift his frame, dragging him closer and closer to the ocean before them. Vortex came running over to grab his legs, and they began trotting to the ocean, quickly. Seaspray felt his spark pick up in speed.

_This was not about to happen!!_

“Hgh-ksssk” Seaspray spoke, his vocalizer glitching out in urgency. _Agh! I can’t say it!_

“What? What?!” Bombshell said, excitement filling his frame. He momentarily stopped running and placed him on the sand, causing Vortex to huff in disappointment.

“Bombshell, you said that we’d-” Vortex began, but was interrupted.

“I’m a-askkksk a-a-a”

“Yes? Come on, you can say it!” Bombshell pushed, leaning in to listen to him, crouching to the sand to hear him better.

“A-a-a- r-r-r-raft-t-t” He managed to spew, venting out of exhaustion. He onlined his optics and stared blankly at the dark sky.

“A raft!” Bombshell exclaimed, shooting up from the squat position and looking over at Vortex.

“How utterly useless! Thank you, little mech.” Bombshell said, patting Seaspray on the helm in a congratulatory manner. Seaspray felt so disgusting. Was there anyway to take this all back?

“Wasn’t that hard, was it?” Vortex said, pissed off they didn’t get to do anything else to him.

“Well. I think we are done here. No, we won’t kill you. ‘Why?’ you may ask? Well, I have a theory.” Bombshell began, standing up, and dragging Seaspray back to the rock, Vortex sluggishly helping. He huffed again, getting to hear another one of his theories.

Seaspray couldn’t bother with a response. That was all his vocalizer could manage.

“Well, I think no one will come to save you here. See, we brought you really far from home, kid. Heck I don’t even know your name yet. Don’t worry, I’ll find out soon enough.” Bombshell grunted, finally making it back to the rock.

“Me and Vortex will leave you here for a day, just to see how versatile you are to the elements. Then, well, you’ll see soon enough. If you survive, that is.” He ended, leaving and taking Vortex with him.

Seaspray couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Seaspray couldn’t do _anything_.

It was so cold, and the sound of the water splashing reminded him that this was all real. This was all actually happening. The pain was still there, and the memory of all this would still be too.

He was helpless.

  
* * *

  
He sent the ping, and the reply was only slightly delayed.

_“Did you need something?”_

It was his voice. Jetfire allowed himself to vent in preparation.

“Yes. I’ve been told that you know the forest area well enough to see yourself through it. I’m in need of some help. Er, the team is in need of some help.” Jefire said, looking over at Cali. She copied his worried expression and flew up to sit on his shoulder.

_“What’s in it for me?”_

“I haven’t even told you the problem, yet.” Jetfire had to wait a bit so he wouldn’t lose his patience and just go into the forest himself. He vented out loud, again.

“Seaspray has ventured into the forest, and he is undoubtedly lost. I’ve tried to contact him, but his radio frequency is not going though. I need you to go and look for him, since you’re the only one who can-”

 _“You can rely on me to handle it. I suspected Decepticon activity, but I didn’t know it would arrive this quickly. I’ll be off, then.”_ He said quickly before ending the transmission.

 _Decepticon activity?!_ Jetfire hadn’t even thought of that possibility. Now he _really_ wanted to join Smokescreen. Frag the fact that he hated Smokescreen to his very spark, he was going to join him.

After some time, he saw Smokescreen approaching the forest with a confident stride.

“Smokescreen! I’m going with you.” Cali flew off his shoulder and landed on her seashell, where she watched the encounter anxiously, biting her tiny fingers.

  
“Going with me? Sorry, but this would be ten times more efficient _without_ you. I’m already here, so just give me my space and let me do my job.” Smokescreen said, pushing past the other and walking away.

Jetfire tried to control himself, venting and rotating his shoulder joints, but he just failed to see anything that made his argument make sense.

“No.”

The jet pulled the other by the shoulder so that he was facing him, dead in the optic. He was hiding something, Jetfire was sure of it. And, he was going to find out what it was.

“That’s not _remotely_ close to being a logical conclusion. How would you even be able to scale the entirety forest if it was just-”

“Hey, don’t blame me. I’m not the one who left Seaspray by himself in the lab. You apparently had better things to do than to concern yourself with him, and now you suddenly care?” He said, brushing his servo off his shoulder. He gave him a confused look.

“Now _that_ , doesn’t make any sense. Now, the quicker this conversation ends, the quicker I can find the mech you supposedly care about. Seaspray. Are we done, or do you have even more stupid slag to say, scientist?”

He did have a point there. If Seaspray really was with the Decepticons right now, the sooner the better. Not this time, and maybe not for a while, but he would find out what Smokescreen is out to do, what he is trying to achieve. What is he really after?

To answer Smokescreen’s question, Jetfire simply turned around, and returned to Cali, who flew up to his shoulder and patted his shoulder. Oh, he was beyond pissed off that he couldn’t convince Smokescreen to bring him along. He couldn’t go, but, maybe…

“Cali,” He whispered to her, and she leaned in excitedly. Jetfire looked back to see if Smokescreen was within listening distance. The coast was clear.

“Go with him.”

Cali gasped with excitement, and began what could only be described as some form of ‘dancing.’ She was getting ahead of herself a little, so Jetfire tried to straighten her out without ruining her good mood.

“Just don’t let him see you. Think you can do that, Cali?” He said, a smile forming behind his mask. She was nodding excitedly and jumping off his shoulder to swirl around him. He laughed at her presentation of happiness.

“Yes, sir! Count on me, your faithful assistant!” She said, standing on his shoulder at present arms, giving him a salute.

“Okay, okay. I want you to be careful okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He said, and he watched her whisk away to follow Smokescreen into the forest.

  
* * *

  
Smokescreen traversed through the forest for a long while, longer than he expected, a far destination in mind. When they first arrived to Earth, most of the group was fixing their equipment while the others have idle time for conversion while he was making a careful examination of the areas nearby.

The forest was particularly interesting to him, because this was where there was most likely to be a sneak attack from the O.B.A. team. He made careful observations of the area, and good thing, too. The attack came way sooner than he had anticipated. He supposed that he should have expected this result from someone like Seaspray, the one mech who had to deter his plans. He, of course, would be taken care of sooner or later.

The beach that followed the end of the dense forest was where he was heading, but before he could reach it, he spotted something in the forest. Some _one_ , rather. Someone he shouldn’t have seen.

_Slag. They’re still out there._

It was two Decepticons, both of which he didn’t recognize. They were talking amongst themselves, and Smokescreen found nearby cover by hiding behind two trees. It was dark, chances were likely that they weren’t going to see him here.

The two of them were lugging around something large and yellow, and it looked like… Seaspray. He was probably dead already. But, as he looked on, they were dragging him to the end of the forest. That had to be where they entered from, meaning that they’ll eventually head back to their base. Wondrous! Their whereabouts will be right in front of him, where they can plan a revenge attack. All he had to do was follow them.

But, why where they taking Seaspray with them? They could have just left his dead frame in the forest for Earth One to find, that would have been no trouble, even a good intimidation tactic. But, no, they were transporting his frame somewhere. Where? Could it be that they wanted to take him with them? If so, for what? Smokescreen had to find out.

Instead of pinging Jetfire to alert him about Seaspray’s condition, he decided to follow the two Decepticons. Eventually, they reached the end of the forest to the beachy area that he had originally predicted they would be. They laid Seaspray on a large rock, and watched him for a while. Based on their actions, Seaspray couldn’t be dead. Not if they were seemingly waiting for him to wake up, it seems.

The teal Decepticon shifted anxiously, and poked at Seaspray’s lifeless frame. Seaspray onlined his optics, and began to move slowly. He was still alive, at the hands of Decepticons, nonetheless. That was astounding. Smokescreen wasn’t sure if Seaspray was lucky or cursed by Primus himself. He’ll find out soon enough.

Seaspray looked around slowly, as if he was injured, then to the forest. He made eye contact with him for maybe two seconds, but Smokescreen knew that Seaspray didn’t realized that it was him, or else he would’ve freaked out, or done something. It was too dark to see him, anyway, further proving his point.

“You said two minutes, Bombshell. _Two fragging minutes._ ” The teal one said, seemingly aggravated by how long it took Seaspray to online again.

“Yeah, well, this one is slower than I thought. He’s got a pretty useless function by the looks of it, too.” Bombshell said, looking at Seaspray’s frame critically. What were they going to do with him? They didn’t bring him to their base, so that only left one option. Torture. And, Smokescreen has a front row seat to the show.

Smokescreen _could_ go out and try to save to broken, beaten, useless mech and risk being tortured himself. Or, he could follow the Cons to their base when they’re done with their games; He preferred the latter.

After sometime, things got _very_ interesting as he sat in the forest and watched from afar. He got to see them tease Seaspray with a long pointed rod, and he got so scared he couldn’t talk. Smokescreen was quite a master of verbal intimidation, but the Decepticon before him, Bombshell, was the master of _physical_ intimidation. He was genius in his actions, a very practiced mech indeed. Smokescreen found himself taking notes, to broaden his own bag of tricks.

And after some time, they carved their insignia on him, right on his helm, for everyone to see. Ouch. That was harsh. A practiced master indeed, this one.

Bombshell and Vortex dragged him out near the sea, for intimidation purposes, and that got him to finally spit something out. _That_ was impressive.

But, enough of the praise, Smokescreen wanted them to leave already. He was starting to spend too much time out here, and Earth One might become suspicious. They had spent at least an hour with this, and as entertaining as this was, he wished they’d just leave already so he could see their base, see how much they’ve done. Maybe it was really advanced, with extraordinary technology.

He could ping Jetfire and have him help Seaspray while he went out and pursued Bombshell and Vortex to their base. But… he had other ideas floating in his processor. Something he needed to take care of, and this was the perfect opportunity.

Finally, the pair of Decepticons left, saying that they’d be back after a day. A really dumb move on their part; but, it was the Decepticons, so what else could he have expected?

He emerged from the forest, the moon still out. His pedes filled with sand as he walked over to the damaged, yellow mech. He made sure to stomp on his way over to him, so that he could online his optics and see who it was.

To his pleasure, Seaspray’s visor lit up with curiosity, and he instinctively tried to back away. He stopped instantly, and vented out harshly, as if he was in pain. Poor mech, all he wanted was to be useful. Look where _that_ got him. He was better off staying in his place.

“Seaspray? Seaspray, dear Primus, what did they do to you? Was it a Decepticon? Oh Primus… “ He began, pretending to not have seen the whole show from before. He was looking at his frame, and checking out his injuries as if he had never seen them before. And, it was working beautifully.

Seaspray had vented with relief as he saw who he was, forgetting every suspicion he had of Smokescreen. Now, all he wanted was to be rescued and taken to Jetfire, whom he missed terribly. Aw, he missed him. What he would give to see him right now…

Smokescreen sat down next to the mech, who tried to look at him in the optics, but his helm drooped in defeat in response to the pain. He shakingly moved his servo over to Smokescreen in an attempt to acknowledge him, and he grasped it tightly.

“Oh-ckkczz- Smok-zkz-” Seaspray began, trying to say his name, but was cut off by the other.

“No, no. Don’t move. Stay on the rock. I’ll try to get some help, okay?” He said, getting up and looking at the mech before him. He looked so helpless on the rock, so vulnerable. So, so tempting. This. Was. Perfect.

“Ok-k-k-kay.” Seaspray managed, looking at Smokescreen with hope in his visor. But his visor grew dim when he heard him laughing.

“No, Seaspray, it's not okay.” Smokescreen said, looking to the sea with a smirk on his face, the moon casting a shadow on his entire frame. Seaspray looked so confused, he was so _adorable_. Primus, he couldn’t help himself.

“Look at you. Powerless. You may as well be better off _dead_.” He said, cocking his helm in thought. He squatted down to meet his gaze on the rock, and lifted Seaspray’s helm with his servo. He was heavy in his servo, as if he couldn’t even move his head without straining himself.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Hmmm, better off dead… I don’t know, what do you think-” Smokescreen commented to the mech, pulling out his gun and stabbing it to his throat, causing Seaspray to vent out in pain and confusion.

“Any objections?”

* _vsh_!*

The laser gun fired at Seaspray’s vocalizer quickly, a very precise shot at his port, rendering him instantly, painfully mute. Seaspray’s visor flashed brightly, then they offlined at the pain he undoubtedly cause the poor mech. Seaspray felt his world turn upside down, and he finally found out what type of mech Smokescreen was. He was treasonous, acting on his own motives, whatever they may be.

“Guess not.”

Seaspray’s visor turned back on, and his helm lay limply in his grasp. Smokescreen didn’t want to kill him. No, not now at least. He just wanted to have a _talk_. A nice, calm, projection of previously undisclosed authority. Which, just so happens to involve methods similar to that of Decepticons. Inspiration, if you will.

“Well, since you have nothing to say, I think I’d like to start. Stay put, would you?” Smokescreen smirked as he aimed his gun at his pedes.

Seaspray desperately pushed at the sand hastily, ignoring all the pain rushing throughout his entire body. He didn’t care that he was hurting, he _had_ to escape. He knew he could. The Decepticons leaving him alive was a sign, a sign from Primus. He could make it. If he tried hard enough, he could make it. He just had to _try_.

He was able to scale the rock, lifting himself to sit on it, but it was too much, he felt the pain popping his joints, his wires, and paralyzing his other arm, causing him to lean to the side and hit the rock. Smokescreen just stared at him. Just stared.

 _What was he doing? Maybe he’s sparing me? Maybe he realized that he shouldn’t do this?_ Seaspray thought as he lay limp on the rock. Smokescreen vented impatiently.

“Now that you’re done, let me just-” He began, aiming the laser gun at one of his pedes.

* _vsssh_!*

He hit him right on his ankle joint, causing his pede to instantly lose stability and dangle by it’s wires. Energon flowed thickly down the rock, glowing. It was burning hot, and his internal system alerted him of an unfunctional right pede, adding to all the other malfunctioning appendages he had.

“And the other-”

* _vsssh_!*

Seaspray flinched at the impact, as he was still recovering from the initial pain from the first one. This time, his pede was blown off, an entire chunk missing entirely, smoking with fresh heat and burning energon. Seaspray felt himself want to scream, but it was just silence. Quite, meaningless, silence.

“With that out of way, allow me to… explain.” Smokescreen began as he walked around the rock, slowly. Seaspray’s visor was dimming as he was beginning to lose hope. He never even got to say goodbye. To anyone. And, he was going to die, here, having done nothing to progress the team. He was so ashamed of himself. He felt dirty. So useless. So, so, useless. All he wanted was purpose. _Was that too much to ask for, Primus?_

“I have a plan. A mission. A lifelong goal. You just so happened to ruin it. Very, very quickly. So, I have to take care of that, first and foremost. You’ve seen my bad side, I can’t risk you telling anyone. Though, that’s pretty impossible, isn’t it?” Smokescreen said, pointing out that he was rendered speechless due to his actions. Seaspray couldn’t do anything in response to that. He could only silently pray.

“I do think that you _have_ suffered enough, but not _nearly_ enough. Call me cruel, sure, but that’s not my name. And, you won’t forget my name. You will die repeating my name in that little processor of yours.” Smokescreen said, brushing his servo over the Decepticon insignia he had on his helm, admiring its perfection. Seaspray felt himself crying. It was all he could do.

“No. I am not _nearly_ as bad as any Decepticon. But, I do have something I want you to know. Just one last thing, before I kill you. _If_ I kill you.” He said, removing his servo and standing in front of Seaspray, so that he could see him perfectly.

His figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, and Seaspray tried to remember good thoughts. Nice, warm memories he had with his friends. He stopped crying, and calmed down. He was feeling a little less helpless now. He had things to live for, Primus won’t do this to him. Right?

Smokescreen squatted down to meet his visor, giving him a devilish grin. He grabbed his chin harshly, and forced it from it’s peaceful position to a staining lift, making his neck cry out in physical pain that traversed throughout his wiring system. His grasp tightened as he spoke.

“ _No one_ likes you. No one _ever_ did. You’re a _useless_ piece of _slag_ that would be better off becoming utter _scrap_. You did _nothing_ for the team, _nothing_ for Jetfire, and _nothing_ for yourself. I wanted to kill you the moment I laid my optics on you.” He said, gritting his denta at the mech. Seaspray felt himself trying to cry out again, but it was just replaced with more pain.

_Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts._

_Earth, the ocean, the research, Jetfire, I haven’t finished Primus, I haven’t finished!! This will not be the end, this will not be how it ends!!_

“One more thing. Just a last little pick me up. I wish I could say I’m sorry, I really do, but I’m not. Not in the slightest. But, oh well, we all meet our maker eventually. Some sooner than others, some _long_ overdue, like yourself. Before you die, Seaspray… “ He said, releasing his grip on his chin and letting it fall to the rock. Seaspray looked at Smokescreen, hanging on his very last word. Smokescreen took out his laser gun, and aim it at his helm, at point blank.

“When your at your lowest point, just remember. Things can only get better.”

_Yes! I have to have hope. Things can only get-_

*vvssshhh*

“For me, at least.”

Seaspray’s face was encased in a bright blue haze that dispersed as quickly as Smokescreen could shoot his laser gun. When the smoke cleared, he was no longer Seaspray. He was dead. The color of his frame was beginning to losing its luster, and Smokescreen was hit with a sudden, hurting nostalgia. He clutched his chassis, surprised at his own reaction.

He had a flashback to his mates deaths, back when the Autobots actually trusted him. Back when he had his team. He tried to brush it off the strange feeling, becoming angry at himself for still thinking about that. That time of his life was over, he had to move on. Move on with the plan, years in the making. Years of waiting. He couldn’t let this slip. Not now.

Smokescreen shook off the feeling quickly and backed away, realizing that he had gotten excessively dirty. He was only slightly disappointed that Seaspray had to die like this, so suddenly, but he had good reason to kill him this quickly. One, was that he had spent enough time sitting around, and the group must be worried about him at this point. He didn’t want them to see him like this. Not in front of Seaspray with a bloody gun.

The second reason, was that he was being watched.

He turned his helm, and his gaze was matched with that of a cute, little starship, flying in the air behind him.

_Cali. Oh, Jetfire has made quite the mistake._

  
* * *

  
“It's been _three_ _hours_ , Prowl. How long do you think it would take to find Seaspray? There is something else he’s doing out there.” Jetfire said, looking at the officer critically.

Prowl looked at the ground in thought, not really sure how to answer his question.

“I swear, that mech is up to something.” Warpath boomed as he leaned over his chair.

The group had gathered in the lab for a meeting, called on by Jetfire, pertaining to both Smokescreen and Seaspray. Everyone had their suspicions as to what happened, but now was the time to voice them.

“Smokescreen informed me that it was Decepticon activity, and, at this point, I really think that's what it is. What else would prompt this long of a wait?” Jetfire asked the group, flinging his servo in the air in question.

“Unless their swimming in the water together, I'd say it's just that.” Warpath said, agreeing with the scientist.

“Then, why hasn't he pinged us yet? I’m not saying your wrong, or anything, but if something important was happening, he would have tried to at least tell us about it, right?” Hot Rod suggested, looking over at Prowl.

Prowl simply nodded his head, considering the options. He had been silent this entire time, having his own processor filled with other concerns, including this one. He had to say the right thing, make the right decision. There was no room for mistake, or else, the integrity of the team was at risk. Or, he could just give it to them straight, no sugar coating.

“That would be logical to assume… but would he? Would he _really_ -” Jetfire said, raising the volume of his vocalizer to make sure everyone understood where he was coming from. But before he could finish his thought, Prowl interrupted him.

“Jetfire, please. All of these claims are _baseless_. You are simply paranoid. We cannot prove any of this until they return. And, they will. If not today, then we can explore tomorrow, if that will put you at ease. Right now, the best thing we can do is wait. There are no other options, and that’s okay.” He said, addressing the team. They all sat in silence, taking in the words. Prowl waited a moment before continuing.

“We can all see that you’re worried, don’t think that the rest of us aren’t. But, we sent Smokescreen out there on a mission to find Seaspray, not anything else. You just have to have faith and trust.” Jetfire shifted in his seat and straightened up, giving Prowl a nod.

“Let's retreat to our habsuites for tonight. I will notify you if I find out any information. You are dismissed.” He ended, and slowly, the lab was soon empty. Prowl decided to stay online, just to see if he would run into Smokescreen coming out of the forest, with Seaspray, hopefully.

After some time, he could see the temperature rising gradually, due to the star rising slowly into view. He looked to the forest, and saw a rummaging in the bushes and trees. He stood up, hoping to assist Smokescreen with Seaspray. But, as he walked over there, he saw that it was just Smokescreen, covered in dried energon, slightly mangled. Alone.

“What happened? Where’s Seaspray? Did you find him?” Prowl asked as he walked up to the mech, wrapping his arm around his shoulders to help him walk. Smokescreen’s weight was suddenly pushed to him, and he was literally dragging him to the medical slab.

He laid him on it, and pinged Jetfire. He examined his frame, and it was dirty with grass, leaves, dirt, and sand.

“I- I- I- couldn’t-” Smokescreen coughed, his vocalizer glitching out sporadically. Prowl held his servo, hoping not to hear what he thought was coming.

He heard pedes running in the distance, and saw Jetfire running over. He looked around the lab, desperately looking for Seaspray.

“Where is he?” He pinged at Prowl quickly, who dreaded the question.

“Not here.” He sent back, and noticed that the running slowed down significantly. Prowl felt himself cringe at having to break the news.

“I’m sorry. It’s only Smokescreen, and he needs medical attention.” Prowl sent in response, looking at Smokescreen. He still hasn’t told him what happened, yet. He seemed to have an unsteady venting cycle.

“What’s wrong with him?” He said out loud, his voice monotone as he approached the slab.

“He seems to have numerous small dents scattered across his frame, and he is littered with dried energon. Not sure whose it is, and he hasn’t spoken.” Prowl said, stepping to the other side of the slab so that Jetfire has better access to him. Jetfire began to touch his frame, looking around it critically.

“I’m sorry, sorry. It's just… hard to say. What happened, that is.” Smokescreen said, venting out in exhaustion. Jetfire lifted his arms and legs, give him a full examination before opening cabinets and pulling out equipment.

“That’s okay. Just tell us what you can. But, the more information, the better.” Prowl said while simultaneously sending out a ping to Warpath and Hot Rod, who pinged back in acknowledgement. Prowl stood next to Smokescreen on the slab, and waited for him to start speaking.

Smokescreen flinched as Jetfire began working on removing the energon with a stinging solvent with a rag, causing him to vent out tightly. He had multiple cut wires and scratched platings, and the antibacterial liquid seeped through all of them, causing immense, uncomfortable pain.

“Ah, I was in the forest and I saw Seaspray rummaging through the trees.” He began, and the rubbing on his arm stuttered for a split second, then resumed as normal.

“We were returning when I saw two Decepticons hidden in the bushes. I tried to warn Seaspray before they got to him, but they were able to capture him, and they killed him in cold blood, right before my very optics.”

Jetfire removed the cloth and applied more solvent, and kept reapplying it, over and over again. Smokescreen hissed at this constant pain over the same scraps and bruises on his arm.

“Agh, I think that’s _enough_.” He vented harshly, and Jetfire moved the rag someplace else.

“Ah, my _apologies_.” He said, gritting his denta, finally removing the rag and pulling out mending tools to fix the dents. Prowl looked at the duo in confusion, sensing some sort of tension between the two.

“I managed to escape before they could get to me. Then, I ran back here as soon as I could.” Smokescreen finished, looking over to Prowl. He didn’t seem too pleased by the story, so he tried to sugar coat it.

“I tried to save him, I really did. But, I had no choice. I mean, I couldn’t do anything.” He reasoned, his visor dimming in shame. Prowl, examined the expression, and was going to comment on it, but he was interrupted by the rest of the team arriving.

“What happened? Is Seaspray here?” Hot Rod asked, looking around the lab feverishly. Jetfire looked at him with a sympathetic expression, clicking his vocalizer to avoid glitching in his voice.

“No, he did not return.” Jetfire said, his voice almost faltering despite the attempt. He vented slowly, his servos beginning to shake. He tried to strainted himself out, shaking his helm slightly. He rotated his joints and continued his work on Smokescreen, who offlined his optics peacefully.

Jetfire couldn’t help but think that he should be traumatized, scared, crying even. But no, all he did was lay on the slab with no worry in the world, as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t experience what he just described. As if he was _lying_. He was lying, wasn’t he? Typical Smokescreen. He was going to get the truth, he was going to get it out of him, despite whatever efforts he has to take. He has to find out what happened to Seaspray.

He saw himself shaking again, and he allowed himself to become angry at the fact he couldn’t compose himself properly.

“Jetfire, are you okay?” Hot Rod said, waking over and patting him on his shoulder. He reached over and grabbed his servo, hoping to comfort him with the action. Jetfire grasped it tightly back and gave Hot Rod a look of appreciation.

“We understand this ain’t easy for ‘ya.” Warpath said from across the other side of the slab, looking at the mech with worry.

“You can excuse yourself to your habsuite if need be, let Smokescreen recharge for now. Warpath and I will be here with him.” Prowl suggested, getting the recharge cable from underneath the slab.

“Thank you, that would be beneficial right now. Hot Rod, could you… ” Jetfire asked, motioning for Hot Rod to follow him. He needed someone with him, so he wouldn’t lose himself. He knew that he was unattended, his emotions would eat him alive like a sparkeater.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He replied hastily, walking Jetfire to his habsuite.

The sun was nice and warm as they walked in the sand, and Hot Rod felt _really_ awkward. He had no idea what to say, and this mech was in need of some major comfort. Occasionally, he heard him vent softly to himself. He just had to say something, anything could help at this point.

“I’m so sorry. I know that he was really close to you.” He said, and mentally face palmed himself. That was the best he could do? That wasn’t even comforting.

“Yes, yes he was… close to me.” He replied after some time, hardly catching his response in his audials. He seemed so broken. Agh, what could he do?

“Uh, how do you usually cope with this?” Hot Rod asked, cringing at his own dialogue. Where was he even going with that question? He had no idea.

“Ah, well… “ He began, chuckling a little, but his laughter died instantly. His optics dimmed as he looked down. Hot Rod wanted to grab his servo, but he hesitated.

“I don’t, to be completely honest. I don’t.” He said, his vocalizer glitching. He clicked his vocalizer, and vented.

“I have difficulty with things like this. I know you would not understand now, you’re so young. But, it never gets easier. No matter how many times you have to say goodbye, it never gets easier. Never.” He said, his vocalizer cracking. He didn’t try to prevent it now. He couldn’t help it. Hot Rod grabbed his servo.

“Thank you.” He whispered, squeezing his servo.

He vented peacefully, calming himself down. They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, but Jetfire couldn’t hold back anymore. He felt the pain crawling up again.

“He was so _sweet_.”

Jetfire began crying a little, a sad smile returning. Hot Rod felt himself almost crying too, and he didn’t even know Seaspray that well. Though, now he was regretting not having talked to the mech.

“He did everything with a purpose. A determination that not all mechs have.” He spoke, his voice waving a bit towards the end, and his grip on Hot Rod’s servo was tightening. _That_ wasn’t a good sign.

“Damn it-” He whispered, his vocalizer cracking up again. He tried to restart it to clear it, but it was to no avail now.

“Why is this happening?” He was talking to himself now, gripping is other servo in a tight fist. Hot Rod tried to rush the walk a bit, seeing his habsuite in sight. All he had to do was get him to his habsuite, have him recharge, and it’ll all be better.

“I see… This is all my fault. I _deserve_ this.” He cried, his vocalizer glitching out in restraint. His servo was shaking in his grip, and loosened up a bit.

“No! No, this isn’t your fault. _None_ of this is. It’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.” Hot Rod said nervously, trying to say the right thing. To his pleasure, Jetfire sniffed and stood quietly, thinking.

“Hot Rod,” He whispered, looking up to the speedster before him. Hot Rod didn’t say anything, just stood and listened. That’s what he needed. He needed someone to listen to him.

“I miss him.” He said, looking away with remorse coating his features. He bit his lip, recalling his friend. He felt his optics watering again.

“Damn it, I miss him.” He let go of Hot Rod’s servo, and walked to his habsuite. Hot Rod followed behind him, unsure what to do. They both walked inside, and he pulled out some energon he had laying around. It was half empty. He took a seat, and Hot Rod sat beside him.

“The way he took passion into his work, the way his visor lit up when I told him something fascinating… “ He poured the energon into a cube, and another. He never offered one to the other mech.

“The way he looked at me when I talked to him. The way he looked at me… “He whispered, taking a small sip of energon.

“He was amazing. And, now he’s gone. I’ll never see him again. Ever.” This time, he took a longer sip, feeling the sting of the strong grade. Hot Rod clicked his vocalizer nervously. He really didn’t know what to say, he practically felt the guilt dripping off the other mech.

Hot Rod’s optics were glued to his servo as he swirled the energon in it’s cube, staring at it, lost in his own thoughts.

“I never even got to say goodbye.”

  
* * *

  
“-in cold blood. I don’t know why they did it. They probably just tried to intimidate me. But, you know how I am.” Smokescreen said, sitting up on the slab. Prowl listened to his story, iching for every detail. But, he had doubts he was outspoken about.

“What did they do with the body?” The commander asked, confusion encasing his thoughts. He was finding more plot holes in his story the more he humored the thought.

“Ah, I… I don’t know.” He said, looking off to the side in thought.

“I… had ran away at that point.” Smokescreen said, looking at his superior, unwavering.

“And, it never occured to you that you could’ve contacted me here?” Prowl asked, giving him a critical optic. Smokescreen shifted slightly. Prowl was getting under his skin.

“Are you insinuating that _I_ didn’t contact you on _purpose_? Why would you conclude something so _ridiculous_?” He rose his voice a little, acting insulted by the comment. Prowl never flinched.

“Yes.”

Smokescreen vented angrily, then let his emotions leave. He had to compose himself, especially since _he_ had the upper hand.

“Well, that would be the wrong impression. I would never. I know that you know that. I have _never_ killed anyone. Ever. In my lifetime. Some mechs can’t say that for themselves.” He said, a direct hit at the other mech. Prowl looked up at him, trying to read his expression.

“I didn’t- ah. Don’t change the subject. Why didn’t you contact anyone?” Prowl pushed, standing up from his seat and placing his servos on each side of the mech on the slab, staring into his optics. Smokescreen straightened up his back, trying to get his commander to back down.

He never said anything, just sat on the slab in silence. Prowl had rendered him speechless, he had nothing to say to him. This confirmed his suspicions.

“Smokescreen, that energon you had on you… was it Seaspray’s?”

“I didn’t kill him.” Smokescreen said, looking Prowl dead in the optics. Prowl was beginning to add another question, but was thrown off by the other.

“I will tell them.” He said, his voice steady with a newly acquired smirk on his face.

“Tell them what?” Prowl questioned, confused by the comment _and_ the expression.

“Why, about you of course. What you did to my team, my flight. I was their commander. I was their comrade.” He said, pushing Prowl off the slab and standing up himself. Prowl backed off and hit the wall of the rock as Smokescreen advanced toward him.

“You killed all of them. I think right about now would be the time to tell the rest of them, wouldn’t you agree, _second in command_?” Smokescreen questioned, their noses almost touching. Prowl hesitated in his comment, carefully choosing his words.

“That’s not what I had asked-”

“Is that a ‘yes’ I hear? I think that was a yes. I could ping them all right now. Would that be alright?” He asked, raising his servo to his audial, tapping it. Prowl shook his head, clicking his vocalizer.

“No, no. That would not be-”

“Good. That’s what I was thinking too.” Smokescreen said, walking away to his slab and seating himself on it. Prowl vented as he had allowed himself to be taken by the strings and manipulated like a puppet.

He clicked his vocalizer as he walked away from the rock, getting ready to leave. He didn’t know if he had actually killed Seaspray or not. He wasn’t even completely sure on that suspicion. He had nothing more to gain from the mech.

“Great minds think alike, don’t they?” He said as he lay flat on the slab, venting peacefully to himself.

“I enjoyed this conversation, Prowl.”

  
* * *

“I appreciate your company, Hot Rod. You’re more than I could have asked for, really.” Jetfire began as he looked at the mech next to him. He felt so much better already, and it had only been an hour. He never thought he could get over this. All the energon was helping, too. He felt a slight buzz of the strong drink circulating in his wires. It took an excessive amount of energon to get him drunk, and he was thankful for that.

“Oh, it was no problem at all. I understand it can get pretty difficult sometimes. Thank you for sharing your energon with me. You know how much I love the stuff.” Hot Rod joked as he finished his cube and placed it on the table. He, on the other hand, only had a few cubes before feeling the world revolve around him. He tried to restrain himself this time, but he had already forgotten how much he drank.

“Warpath tells me about it all the time when I’m with him. You two have quite the history.” He said as he laughed and recalled what the old war veteran told him. He looked over to Hot Rod’s cube of energon.

“Would you like some more-” He began as he was reaching for the energon before he received a sudden ping from Smokescreen.

“I’m sorry to interrupt this, but I have to go. Smokescreen is in need of some service, apparently.”

“That’s alright, I’ll put everything away for you. You’ve got important stuff to do.” Hot Rod said as he stood and began stacking empty cubes of energon.

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be in the lab if you need anything.” He said as he left his habsuite and made his way to the lab.

When he got there, Smokescreen was walking around, carefully looking at everything.

“Were you in need of some kind of assistance?” He said to him, catching Smokescreen’s attention. He twirled around on his pede, looking over to the mech.

“Yes. Mind taking a walk with me on the beach? I have something to show you.” He asked, looking at the mech quizzically.

“Of course. Though, this cannot take place here, in the lab?” Jetfire questioned, confused by the request.

“No, it’d be much nicer by the ocean.”

As they walked, there was an uncomfortable silence. Smokescreen seemed to be normal, as if nothing happened. He stopped in his tracks all of a sudden, and they stood on the sand, not that far from the lab.

“What is it?” This was all becoming very confusing for the jet. He had no idea what he was going to tell him, what he was going to do. Why did they have to go to the beach for a _conversation_ of all things?

“I want to know what you think about me.” He said, quirking his helm in question.

Okay, he wasn’t expecting that.

“In reference to what, exactly?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chassis, tilting his head.

“Based on what happened last night. Things might get convoluted, so I want to hear what you think, first and foremost.” He said, looking at him with interest. Jetfire was rather used to heavy attention, being one of the few jets in the Autobot force, but he couldn’t find it in himself to calm down under this mech’s intense gaze.

“Well, I do have my suspicions, though I think you can clear them up.” He asked, an opportunity blossoming right before him. He could try to get him to admit what _really_ happened that night. He just had to choose what he said carefully, and he could get the information he wanted.

“Like any, ask away.” He said, a pleased expression on his face. He seemed to be too calm. Too friendly. Something was up, most certainly.

“You’re Smokescreen, a master deceiver, surely you would’ve known beforehand that Decepticons where right behind you, am I wrong?” He questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“The forest is much different than Cybertron, where I can rely on my technology and prior knowledge. You must understand that this is new to me. There was no way of knowing-” He began, but was cut off by the other.

“And yet, you managed to evade the Decepticons? How curious. Despite being _covered_ in energon, you were never once touched by them. Allow me to ponder this some more, will you?”

“Yes, well, Seaspray isn’t as… _evasive_ as me, if you will. You seem to hold him up to this pedestal that he simply _cannot_ reach.” Smokescreen said, tugging at his heartstrings. Jetfire noticed him changing the subject, and tried to straighten out the conversation.

“I don’t see how-”

“You seem confused. Let me phrase it more _flatly_. Seaspray has that vibe that just screams ‘I’m and easy target, please kill me.’ He can’t help it, I suppose.” Smokescreen said, giving Jetfire a sorry expression.

“Excuse me? And you just so happen to know exactly what that looks like, don’t you?” Jetfire threatened, studying his expression carefully. He looked off to the side and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that_ -”

“Allow _me_ to rephrase.” He said, taking a step forward in aggravation.

“You killed him, didn’t you? You killed-”

Then, he heard it. A tiny squeal.

“Ah, so she speaks. Didn’t think that she did at first. That is, until she told me a little something.”

It was Cali, and she was tight in his grip, trying to wring herself free.

“What are you- let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Jetfire pleaded, watching her continue to struggle.

“Oh, but she does. I caught her spying on me. You really don’t trust me at all, do you?” He said looking over at Cali. She refused to return his gaze.

“I’m telling you, I didn’t kill him.” He said, looking back at the jet.

“I don’t believe you. Let. Her. Go.” Jetfire rushed forward, reaching out to her. Smokescreen stepped back and moved his arm away. He squeezed her tightly, and she let out a tiny squeal.

“If you continue your attempt I will kill her right in my servo.”

“Let me get something clear. You think I _didn’t_ kill Seaspray, right?” He asked, looking over at Cali. She stared in fear into his optics, overwhelmed by him.

“I believe the opposite, to be completely clear.” Jetfire said, not backing down to the mech.

“Oh, really?” He reached over with his other servo, a detachable knife in it’s grasp. He tugged the tip of it on Cali’s vocalizer, and she screamed out.

“No! What are you doing?” Jetfire yelled as he ran over to the other mech. In a swift motion, he ripped out her vocalizer, and she began sputtering glitched out noises.

“You bastard!” Jetfire said, extending his servos over to Smokescreen, who jumped backward.

“One more step and I’ll rip off her head.” He threatened, positioning the knife at her neck. She tilted her helm back, looking at Jetfire shamefully.

“Okay, okay. Don’t hurt her.” Jetfire pleaded, raising his servos in the air.

  
“I couldn’t risk her saying anything to anyone, so this had to be done.” Smokescreen said, still holding on to the tiny starship.

“Let me ask you again, Jetfire. You think I _didn’t_ killed Seaspray, right?” He said, tilting his helm at the jet, still holding the knife steady in it’s position.

“I- I don’t think you killed Seaspray.” Jetfire said, shame dripping off every word. He couldn’t believe it. He just let this mech _dictate_ his own thoughts.

“I’ll be off then, I don’t think these little scraps and bruises need any repair. Thank you, Doctor.” He said, dropping Cali from his grasp, and walking away.

Jetfire leaped and caught her in his servo, gingerly patting her head. She was feeling her neck, touching where her vocalizer should have been. He kneeled down into the sand, his legs giving out. He cradled her lovingly, and she snuggled into his servo. He felt himself crying again, and Cali hugged his servo tighter.

“Cali… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any comments or thoughts, please don't hesitate to post about them, I love reading what you guys question. Anyway, hopefully this chapter makes up for the long wait, and I'll see you in the next one!


	12. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret being so tardy in the publishing of this chapter. My deepest apologies for those who read this book whenever I upload. Thank you for being patient with me and my writing process.

“Vortex, you’re back. We were becoming worried for you. Care to explain?” Hook questioned stubbornly, walking out of the cave to the younger mech. Vortex seemed very excited, an emotion not seen in that mech often. Everyone had lazily gotten up from recharge, and Hook was wide awake. He put it upon himself, because no one else asked him, to wake up the earliest and set the example for everyone. 

 

Not that anyone would notice Hook's vain efforts, but here was Vortex covered in leaves and dirt eagerly jumping in the sand, creating a scene.  _ This _ got the other mechs off their recharge slab.

 

“Bombshell just made history, you won’t believe me. Get everyone else out here. I need to tell everyone something.” Vortex said, rubbing his servos together excitedly. 

 

Hook was going to question him as to why he had to come back the way he did, with leaves and all, but decided to give everyone a ping on the group transmission instead. They needed to find out what he had to say anyway, because whatever the news was, it was getting Vortex very visibly revved up. Hook was just as curious as the next mech to find out what he had to say. 

 

Under the circumstances, he brought with him something to ponder. Both Vortex and Bombshell had been absent last night, and the group couldn’t help but wonder why. Hook figured that they had gone out to talk about his new job as his lab assistant, but apparently not. What had they done that took an entire Earth night cycle? Vortex looked like he had been running on six cubes of energon going on seven the entire night. And the more he thought of Vortex, he thought of Bombshell. That brought with it a question: Where was he and why wasn’t he with Vortex?

 

As Hook pondered this, the group began emerging from the cave. Vortex happily greeted them, strangely enough, and asked them to take a seat on the sand. It was freshly warm, and felt nice under the heat of the morning sun.

 

Crankcase took a seat next to Longhaul, and couldn’t help himself to some gossip. They were both gone last night, what was he supposed to think?

 

“What do you think happened to them? I don’t see Bombshell here. Think he got caught up by some Earth life forms?” He said, cocking his helm at the other mech. Long Haul shook his helm in thought.

 

“No. Look at him. Vortex’s spark is practically jumping out of him. Nothing bad could have happened, surely.”

 

Crankcase looked perturbed as he studied the excited mech before him. He gave a smirk as a thought entered his processor.

 

“Do you think they interfaced?” He said as he jerked his elbow at Long Haul’s arm, who looked shocked at first but then fell into hearty chuckle.

 

“Are you kidding me? Primus… “ They laughed together as they waited for Vortex to start his little meeting already.

 

Reflector had just waltzed out of the cave looking drunk on cubes of energon, his internal clocking having been offset by an entire thirty minutes. As he walked out, he tried to focus his optics on the sight before him, everyone huddled in the sand together. He squinted, trying to think if he should be in there or not.

 

Hook gave him a tired expression, and waved him over. Reflector shot him a confused glance but walked over anyway and plopped down on the sand next to him.

 

“What's happening?” He asked, hoping to get an answer by looking at everyone. Everyone ignored him.

 

“You’ll see soon enough.” Long Haul said, returning his attention to Vortex.

 

“Now that everyone's here…” Vortex began, standing up from the circle and observing the mechs before him. They were all glued to his frame, waiting for his news. Reflector was out of it, but he looked like he was trying to listen.

 

“You are all called here right now, by me, to hear of the amazing tale of a late night stroll.” He spoke, walking back and forth as he thought about how he should tell them the amazing events from last night.

 

“Bombshell and I were out scavenging for some supplies, which we were going to use to build specialty bombs. However, we came across something far more interesting.” He said, leaning in and looking everyone in the optic excitedly. 

 

Reflector had snapped out of his drowsy state instantly, and was drawn in by Vortex’s storytelling ability.

 

“An Autobot, from Earth One, wandering mindlessly in the forest.”

 

Gasps erupted from the group, and they all looked at each other in shock.

 

“What did you do? What did you guys do?” Reflector asked, leaning forward in excitement.

 

“You can't be telling the truth. Even if that is true, that's extremely dangerous.” Long Haul pouted skeptically as he looked at Vortex with a quirked brow.

 

“‘Course he’s telling the truth, look at him! He's covered in leaves and energon.” Crankcase pointed out.

 

“Vortex!” Bombshell yelled from a distance, running across the beach. He was quite a few yards away, but he was making fast progress. Everyone shot their heads in that direction, staring at the running scientist.

 

“We need to get him.  _ Now _ !” The scientist yelled, waving at Vortex.

 

“Right behind you!” Vortex yelled behind him as he instantly took off in the same direction without saying another word to the team.

 

Hook stood up furiously as he watched the two of them run away into the dawn, and the rest of the team got up from the sand. Hook wanted to be able to monitor them, asked what they were doing, but they can't be running away like this all the time. He didn't even know where they were going!

 

“He didn't say ‘bye.’” Reflector said as he played with the sand at his feet.

 

“Bombshell, get back here! Where are you- for the love of Primus-” Hook muttered as he stepped aside and activated his radio transmission to hopefully contact the crazy duo.

 

Crankcase laughed as he saw Hook bouncing around angrily, and Long Haul pulled his arm.

 

“What? Our commander looks funny.” Crankcase said, wiping an invisible tear from his visor. Long Haul looked unamused.

 

“I’m not only bothered by that, but we have work to do. Enough fooling around.” He said, turning away critically.

 

“Hey, you need to loosen up.”

 

Crankcase put his servo on his arm, and found that he was incredibly tense. Nervous, maybe? What could be causing these sudden nerves?

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, suddenly finding that this might be serious. Long Haul flinched at his touch, and removed his servo from his shoulder.

 

Long Haul was silent, and Crankcase started to fret.

 

“Vortex and Bombshell just found an Autobot last night. They probably killed him. No need to concern yourself, nothing is going to happen.” He said, trying to understand Long Haul's expression.

 

He was unreadable. He never said anything, he just hummed in thought. Crankcase shifted anxiously, wanting to know what he was thinking. He wanted to comfort him to the best of his ability, but he just won't open up. What was he supposed to do?

 

“Bombshell has something in mind for when Earth One tries to pull something on us, I'm sure.”

 

He hoped he was saying the right thing, he really had no idea.

 

“Yes, I suppose. I just-” He began, stopping himself mid-sentence and put a servo to his chin. Crankcase was hanging off his every word, gaining as much information as he possibly could.

 

“Oh, it's nothing.” He concluded, looking off to the side. He seemed discontent with his own response, a slight scowl gracing his features.

 

“It's clearly something.” Crankcase pushed, trying to get the mech to look him in the optic. But he refused.

 

“Just paranoia is all.” Long Haul tried to brush off, attempting to end the conversation by turning away. But, Crankcase was caught off guard by his response. He pulled on his shoulder, trying to get him back into the conversation.

 

“Paranoia? Why would you be paranoid? There's no need to-”

 

“It's just something I feel, okay? I don't want to discuss this any longer.” He shoved his servo off his shoulder and stormed off in an angry huff, servos clutched by his side.

 

“Long Haul. Wait-”

 

Crankcase watched him leave as he cringed at his own commentary. Did he say something wrong? All he did was ask a question. He didn’t even feel at fault, he just wanted to rid Long Haul of the unease he seemed to have.

 

He hadn’t had any form of argument with his close companion before, and he certainly didn’t expect it to go unresolved. He didn’t take Long Haul as the type to just leave something as it was if there was something wrong.

 

Distraught, Crankcase found something to waste his time with. He didn’t want to deal with some mech being moody. But, it  _ was _ someone he considered to be close to him. He was lost in terms of how he should approach this. He didn’t know what he should do, if he should talk to someone about it. This seemed to just come up from nowhere, too, he wasn't even being rude to him.

 

Did Long Haul even like him?

 

Everyone hated Crankcase, so why wouldn't Long Haul? Maybe he was just using this little argument as an excuse to stop talking to him. Long Haul was smart, he could think up something like that. Every mech seemed to make up an excuse with him anyway. His ‘friendships’ often ended in some sort of confrontation. Maybe this would just be another one of those instances.

 

Crankcase never particularly enjoyed having arguments either, despite as many as he had, but he wasn't one to go around and make friends. If something was wrong, he just discarded that mech, like he did all others. But this seemed more complicated for some reason.

 

He felt a little empty that he was on bad terms with Long Haul. He didn't want to stop talking to him. If this was like every other incident, it certainly didn't feel that way.

 

Confused, Crankcase wandered away from the cave and began walking along the beach. He allowed his thoughts to consume him until he could think of something else to do.

  
  


* * *

 

He tried everything to get those mechs to come back, but to no avail. Bombshell and Vortex found themselves in the forest again, and only Primus knows what they are up to now. Hook felt tossed aside, horrible for not being the leader he wanted to be. When they got back, he was going to make some serious changes to the rules. This was not going to happen on his watch again, not as long as he was their commander.

 

It had been a few hours since they had trotted off in the morning, and Hook was getting tired of waiting. He just wanted to something that was actually worthy of his time.

 

He retreated inside the cave, looking for some reports he could send to Megatron. As he was searching, he heard a mechanical saw blade far inside the cave. He was certain he knew who was causing the noise, and felt himself heating up with anger already. He vented calmly, trying to catch himself before he fell. He couldn’t talk to Bombshell while he was angry, that wouldn’t be very professional. He needed to keep track of his encounters with the scientist, or else he might lose himself.

 

Hook walked further down the large cave, the sound of metal on metal rattling the interior of the walls. He felt himself shiver from the sound, like chalk on a chalkboard. He shook it off instantly, and saw that Bombshell had covered his lab area by a white cloth draped across, preventing him from being able to see what he was conducting behind it. The only thing visible was Bombshell’s silhouette against the white cloth.

 

Now, why would he be covering what he's doing?

 

“Bombshell? What are you doing? I must speak to you about-” He began, grasping the cloth and unveiling it. As he tore the hanging cloth with a soft rip, there was a dim light cast over a medical slab, a tinted yellow fade over the room. Bombshell was bent over the side of the table, whirring away at… 

 

At…

 

Neural circuits. A mech’s neural circuits.

 

Hook was horrified.

 

The yellow and white mech lay motionless on the slab, his helm cut open and his brain module for the viewing of every mech who walked by.

 

This must be the Autobot Vortex was talking about to the group before he left with Bombshell. Upon just a glimpse, his optics gravitated toward a Decepticon insignia masterfully carved into this mech's helm. He didn't mean to stare, but he couldn't stop himself.

 

Bombshell had him at his servo tips, for him to play around with at his pleasure. He was mending and cutting different wires, and that was all Hook could bear to watch. He swiftly returned the curtain to its position, and shivered at the event he had just experienced.

 

Primus, he had not expected that. He expected a lot of things from Bombshell, but not that. In fact, he felt like his spark was being pulled out of his chassis harshly.

 

He felt a heavy arm rest on his shoulder, and he flinched away in surprise. He turned and saw Vortex with a cheerful look in his optics.

 

Hook was going to say something, but the comment was stuck in his vocalizer.

 

“What’s up, chief?” Vortex chimed, finding his commander rather amusing right now.

 

“You look awfully pale today. Forgot to recharge or something? Or were you just worried sick about Bombshell and I?” Vortex joked effortlessly as he held his box of supplies. Hook seemed to just stare blankly at him, and Vortex got tired of it quickly.

 

“Seriously, why are you here?” He said coldly as he quirked his hip in impatience. Suddenly, the box of tools was getting heavy.

 

“Oh, right. I was going to talk to Bombshell, but he seems rather busy right now.” Hook replied, still very confused. 

 

After Vortex didn’t say anything in response, Hook grew slightly annoyed at this mech’s audacity. This would be the cue to start explaining something, but Vortex was just a bad mannered as Bombshell. Hook knew he should be asking questions, but he didn’t want to hurt his pride. However, he quickly forgot about this insecurity, and decided to blurt the first thing that came to mind.

 

“You don’t happen to know what he’s doing, do you?” He asked Vortex in a hopeful manner. He hated being in the dark like this, but he had to find out  _ some _ way. He sure as pit wasn’t going to ask that arrogant scientist currently too wrapped in his work to even notice he was speaking to him.

 

“Who, Bombshell? Of course I know what he’s doing.” Vortex said, ending the conversation.

 

Hook vented in frustration, and pushed his question further.

 

“That would be… ?” Hook followed up stubbornly.

 

“He’s installing a cerebro shell into Seaspray’s brain module. Why do you ask?” Vortex answers nonchalantly, adjusting the box of tools in his servos.

 

“Well, it just so happens that I was not informed of any of this. Why  _ exactly _ is Bombshell doing this?”

 

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

 

“I’m asking  _ you. _ ”

 

“Right. Well, it’s quite the story. Well, it all started-” Vortex began, looking away in thought for a second. Suddenly, he took a large intake of breath and vented.

 

“Bombshell, we have a visitor.” 

 

“What was that?” Bombshell yelled above all the noise.

 

The sound of the electric drill ceased, and the clank of it on the table reverberated around the room loudly. Footpedes were heard approaching the cloth, and he revealed himself with an elegant * _ swoosh. _ *

 

His servos and chassis were covered with that familiar fluorescent energon, and Bombshell didn’t seem to care in the slightest. If he was trying to intimidate Hook, it was working perfectly.

 

“Hook,” The mech started, slightly irritated.

 

”What brings you here? I’m in the middle of something very important.” He heaved, looking at Vortex tiredly.

 

“Something that I assume you don’t understand?” He teased as he rubbed the energon between his fingers, trying to disturb him. Hook stared at the sight as the energon stuck in between the crevices in his servos and forced himself to look Bombshell in the optics. It was utterly disgusting. Hook fought the urge to throw up.

 

Bombshell, in a quick, fluid motion, expertly flicked the energon across the distance to Hook’s face, hitting him smack on the cheek. Hook felt himself flinch, and he offlined his optics. He was burning with anger, and he needed to check out, just for a few seconds.

 

Muffled laughter escaped Vortex’s vocalizer as he held his arms crossed in self restraint.

 

“Oops.”

 

“Oh, looks like you’ve got a little something there. You might wanna get that.” Vortex said in a snarky manner, his optics conveying the message clearly.

 

Hook cleared his vocalizer, and allowed himself to think for a moment. There are few ways he could go about this.

 

He could be straight forward and put these mechs in there place or let them be as long as he knows what's going on. Each choice had their own flaws and advantages, and he had to choose carefully.

 

He could just let his temper get the best of him, having his emotions explode right in front of them. That would definitely get them to understand his importance and dominance he has over them. He needed them to understand that, especially after this little endeavor that nearly cost him his composure.

 

Or, he could just sit through this treatment. After all, he didn’t want either of them on his bad side. As a leader, he had to take this into consideration that these two were too immature to really understand the importance of this mission. They had to eliminate Earth One as a team, and he supposed that they didn’t know that yet. Of course, he had to teach them this sooner or later, and this would be the perfect time to do so. But could he? This duo seemed impossible to please.

 

“Excuse me for a moment.” He said firmly, walking away from the two. As he walked, he heard the distant laughter shared between them, and he found himself walking just a little bit faster.

 

He retreated to his side of the cave, carefully placed far from the lab. He looked around for his two stones, and held them in his servos. They were cold from the exposure of the chilly air, and he squeezed them lightly.

 

_ Should I take the harsh approach? _

 

He manipulated the stones in his hand, mixing the white and black. He let out a soft vent, letting the decision be made. Upon looking, he noticed that one of the stones began to glow softly, the white light shining from the white stone.  _ No. _

 

He was grateful that he didn’t have to make the decision himself, but he didn’t necessarily like the outcome either. This meant that they’ll still push him around as they please, not giving him a chance to truly be a leader. But this was something he was willing to sacrifice if he had to for the sake of his team.

 

Venting loudly, he made his way back to the lab.

 

“Back for some more?” Bombshell said, practically voicing his smirk hidden behind his mask.

 

“It would appear so.”

 

“I’d like to know what exactly you are doing. If that’s possible.” Hook said, trying to stay as collected and calm as he could.

 

“Theoretically, yes, that  _ is _ possible.” Bombshell said, leaning in his chair smuggly. Vortex watched the exchange with amusement from aside him, thoroughly enjoying it.

 

No more games, Hook was here to get to the point.

 

“Yes, well, who happens to be the mech on your medical slab?” He said, lobbing his head to the side in question.

 

“That’s Seaspray, the mech we found last night.” Bombshell replied dryly, not intending to delve further into detail. Hook felt his anger flare up instantaneously, but he meditated for a few moments before continuing. He heard a chuckle from the scientist, and he shuffled in place.

 

“What do you intend to do with him?” He asked, not really sure what he was expecting. Pit, he felt himself shiver at the thought. This  _ was _ Bombshell he was speaking to, he could just about do anything he wanted with this mech. The possibilities were endless.

 

“It’s far more complicated than you think, Captain. Might be more than you can handle.” He said, elongating the answer. His amusement right now was through the roof, and he nearly bursts out laughing. He was able to suppress it, though, just for now.

 

“Humor me.” Hook said, finding that it was much easier to respond in a clever manner. Fighting fire with fire is not often encouraged, but the laws of physics do not apply to Bombshell and his little sidekick. He may as well have fun while he was here. He could be witty, too, if they wanted to play  _ that _ game.

 

“We found Seaspray shot in the head. He died instantly from the impact.”

 

“An unexplainable event?” Hook questioned, relieved he was able to finally get through to them. Now, he just had to keep up. The last thing he wanted was to be confused by something that was actually pretty simple. Chances where, by how this conversation started, that they were going to try to make this as complicated as possible for him. He was not going to give them that satisfaction.

 

“It would seem that way. There was no way for him to kill himself, unless he was hiding a gun from us. But that’s out of the question. He would have tried to shoot us with it.” Bombshell said, trying to figure out the situation for himself. He hadn’t thought about what happened to Seaspray, but he would be pleased to come to a conclusion. Then again, he didn’t really care about that right now. He was more distracted with the thought of installing that cerebro shell.

 

“What could explain the injuries, then?” Hook asked. The team was jeopardized, for all he knew, a human could have come along and killed the Autobot. They could have alerted Earth forces, and they could be on the look out right now.

 

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. Frankly, that doesn’t concern me, and it shouldn’t concern you either. What’s interesting is what I’m currently working on.” Bombshell commented, looking at Vortex with excitement. Vortex exchanged the gesture, and continued. Hook looked on at the duo in confusion, and Vortex clarified.

 

“He’s going to revive Seaspray.”

 

Hook looked blankly at them. Why in the name of Primus would they revive a dead Autobot?

 

“How would that in any way benefit us? You do realize the point is to eliminate them, right? I didn’t take you for the type of mech to disregard such a simple rule.” Hook scoffed, taken aback by the statement. How absurd of them, of course Bombshell would do this.

 

“I thought you were smarter than  _ that _ , captain.” Bombshell said, shaking his head disapprovingly. Vortex mocked his motion.

 

“I plan something more complicated than what appears on the surface. You see, the aim of the game is to get inside an Autobot’s head.” Bombshell said, sitting up from his chair and pointing to his head to demonstrate.

 

“Literally. In this case, Seaspray.” He didn’t realize it, but he had completely forgot about the joking and went straight to business. He had a brilliant idea and he had been dying to voice it. 

 

“I’m installing a cerebro shell into Seaspray’s brain module, and it’s going to allow me access to the audio he picks up. If that sounded good, wait till you hear  _ this _ .” He briefed quickly, not letting Hook even process the advantage that holds. Hook was intently listening, not noticing that he was leaning in.

 

“Once the settings have been correctly adjusted, I will then start to  _ speak _ to him remotely.”

 

Hook paused for a moment.

 

“How curious…” Hook managed, not clearly understanding why he would want to do that.

 

“I’ll tell him things that he wouldn’t normally hear, things he wouldn’t  _ want _ to hear. He’ll think its an inner voice, maybe even Primus himself if I play my cards right. I’ll lie, cheat, manipulate, and make him lose his  _ mind _ .” Bombshell ended, letting the information sink in. His imagination was running wild with the things he would say to Seaspray.

 

“I see. I don’t see the relevance in doing so, however. Why not just leave him dead? There’s no point in you following a pointless ambition for the sake of what appears to me as ‘having fun.’” Hook countered critically as he berated the explanation.

 

“Yeah, but before all that, though, we do plan in infiltrating the Earth One team via Seaspray. He’ll be secretly leaking information to us with the cebrero-shells. We will be able to grasp information such as location, data he receives, and even when he dies. However, that is a factor that we have control of.” Vortex reassured, finding that Bombshell skipped through the important parts that Hook would be concerned with.

 

“That sounds better, but it sounds risky. How long have you had to plan this out? I’m finding numerous of holes in this idea of yours.” Hook asked, his concern overriding his curiosity. Though he may have just been informed of this, he wished they had constructed plans with his guidance.

 

“About a few hours.” Vortex said, looking down and counting his fingers. Bombshell shifted in his chair with and angry vent.

 

“That’s besides the point. There’s no turning back now, we’ve already started the procedure. So even if you try to convince us otherwise-”

 

“No, no. It’s alright. Continue with your work.” Hook said peacefully, nodding his head in understanding.

 

_ What the frag? _ Bombshell thought to himself, expecting his commander to completely shut him down on the spot with no reasoning whatsoever. But he just… 

 

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Vortex asked, becoming just as surprised as Bombshell.

 

“There’s no need, I’ve made myself clear enough.” Hook replied, finding that repeating his words would hurt his pride more than it already has.

 

“Sure, sure. Uh-” Bombshell began, not sure how to word his thoughts.

 

“Thanks… for letting us continue.” He said finally. He thought that it was stupid in the first place to even need permission from Hook for an experiment, but he’d just give him this pleasure of having authority, just this once.

 

“I’ll be coming back later to check your progress. Vortex, I might call you away for a moment if I have any further questions.” Hook said to the two of them.

 

“Sure, whatever. Just don’t catch me at a bad time.” Vortex snared.

 

“I can’t guarantee that, but I’ll make an attempt.” He replied dryly.

 

“Goodbye for now.” Hook ended, walking away from them with a small wave.

 

“Be seeing you!” Bombshell exclaimed cheerfully as he waved back enthusiastically. As soon as Hook wasn’t within proximity, he let out a loud, heavy vent. He slouched in his chair, and looked at Vortex.

 

“Primus, when does it end? Just some silence- some peace and quiet and I’d be happy for the rest of my life.”

 

“That’s exaggerating it a bit, isn’t it?” Vortex questioned jokingly, already going back to the table to place the box down and resume work.

 

“Heavily.” Bombshell vented, getting up to resume work.

 

“Frag, I hate that mech.” 

  
  


* * *

 

The sun was bright and full, encapsulating the sky with its magnificence. Jetfire sat in his laboratory, feeling empty. He did, at least, enjoy the warmth of the star as it cast down its gaze upon him. This could not lift his spirits in the slightest, unfortunately. 

 

Jetfire had a nervous tick, a horrible habit, a shameful temptation. He let Seaspray’s death take a grasp of his spark and pull it down. He didn’t have a way around it yet, but he was taking the wrong road, again. The same slag that happened when he left Cybertron. The same feeling that killed him when he left his new home. The pain he knew very well by then when he had to say goodbye to Brainstorm.  _ Brainstorm _ .

 

This was different, much different than him, though. He could actually have the chance to see him again. He could talk to him, feel his presence, know that he’s doing something stupid, yet, logical right now. Brainstorm was well and fine in his side of the universe right now.

 

Seaspray was dead. 

 

Seaspray was tortured for hours and was brutally killed by Decepticons. Decepticons that Jetfire doesn’t even know. All because he couldn’t spare some time to do something with that lonely mech. The mech that would shower him with love and attention like no one else did. He had all the love in Cybertron for that sea boy, but apparently not enough. Not enough for Jetfire to save him.

 

Save him. That’s all he had to do. Seaspray needed him. Pit,  _ he _ needed Seaspray. He needed him right now. How selfish, but it was true. He wanted to hear his voice again, he wanted to know he was listening again. He wanted to touch his helm and know that he was right where he needed to be.

 

Frag, this has been going on for too long. He needed a break.

 

He left the lab and turned off all the equipment. The mechanical whir slowly died down, and all he could hear was the ocean. He walked along the sand, glancing at the blue waves that rocked the beach with a rhythmic tune. 

 

Suddenly, he heard a scratching radio noise, static, come from his transmitter, an anomaly he’d never heard of before. He mingled with the screws and notches for awhile, hoping to try to make sense of the scatter.

 

_ *kssck-* _

 

_ “-fire? Jetfi-,” _

 

The transmission kept cutting off, to the point where he couldn’t make out a sentence.

 

“What the-?” Jetfire couldn’t help but wonder out loud. Someone was trying to communicate with him, and he didn’t recognize the voice as being a mech from Earth One. He messed the dial on his audial again, hoping to gain a more clear signal.

 

_ “-hear me? Can you hear me now? It’s me, Brainstorm. Testing: one, two, three.” _

 

“Hello? Brainstorm? Is that you?” Jetfire replied instantly, quickly becoming excited.

 

_ “Yes! Jetfire! Yes, yes, yes!” _ He squealed over the transmission, causing Jetfire to laugh. His spark was bursting with joy, and he never even noticed his dramatic mood swing.

 

“How are you even doing this? How did you manage to… ?” He trailed off, wanting Brainstorm to explain it for him. He wanted to hear his voice again.

 

_ “Oh? The transmission? Simple!”  _ He began, going off on how he amplified the frequency with this, and managed to do that. Jetfire was listening, sure, but he was beyond ecstatic to have Brainstorm talking with him.

 

He didn’t even care about what he was talking about, he felt so grateful to have the opportunity to talk to him. It was genius how Brainstorm was able to conjure up a signal that traveled thousands of light years away.

 

_ “Yeah, it was a bit complicated at first, but… “ _ Brainstorm paused for a bit, collecting his thoughts.

 

_ “I had very clear motivation. I missed you very much. I’ve been needing your support.” _ He said in a very somber tone, and he picked up on this. Jetfire felt the need to say something to the extent of ‘me too,’ but Brainstorm didn’t allow him to.

 

_ “Ah, but it hasn’t been all that bad. I’m getting things done twice as fast now, without all your distractions.” _ Brainstorm joked proudly, elaborating on all the projects he managed to finish up.

 

“That’s amazing, Brainstorm. You don’t need me so badly now, do you?” Jetfire said, reminding himself of someone else he needed badly. Someone he couldn’t have.

 

_ “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” _ He paused again, noticing something.

 

_ “Y’know, maybe its just cause’ of this stupid transmission thing, but you sound a bit different. You don’t sound the same. Has something happened? You haven’t told me anything that’s happened on your stay on Earth.” _ Brainstorm brought up, a concern translating through.

 

_ “Is something wrong?” _

 

“Is something wrong?’ Yes, something was very wrong. But it could not be right, it’ll never be right. Whether he chose to express his grief with his want to be Amica Endurae was up to him in this moment, but did he want to do this to Brainstorm? Did he want to let him know of his struggling? And if he did, would it change anything? Would this make him feel better?

 

_ “Jetfire.” _

 

“Yes?”

 

_ “What happened?” _

 

“Your assuming something happened-

 

_ “I know something happened. You’re just not telling me. Please.” _

 

“Brainstorm, it… “ Jetfire trailed off, not wanting to go further into context.

 

_ “You can tell me.” _

 

And he told him. Every burning detail, every tear shed minute of it. The heartbreak of it all, the need of reassurance and affection that no one else provided him. The two of them probably rambled for hours, until the sky was apricot once again, signaling that the day was to leave and the night was to come.

 

“It’s looking pretty late here, on Earth.” Jetfire commented, looking to the atmosphere and ogling at the few stars that were bright enough to be apparent.

 

_ “I wish I could see it.” _

 

Then a brilliant idea popped into his helm.

 

“You can. You can see it.”

 

He heard a chuckle through the transmission, then a spew of laughter. Happy laughter, an laugh that held a plethora of endless possibilities.

 

_ “Jetfire! Are you suggesting that I-!?” _ He said through a smile, already wanting to say yes.

 

“Yeah, yeah I am!”

 

_ “No, no. You have to say it. You have to ask me first.” _

 

“Okay, okay.” Jetfire responded, resetting his vocalizer.

 

“Brainstorm, would you like to accompany me on this journey of self exploration on Earth in order to bring forth a new way of life?”

 

_ “Well, when you say it like that… “ _ He said, sounding unconvinced.

 

“And get to work with me in the lab again?” Jetfire teased, hiding his shyness of admitting that.

 

_ “Well, when you say it like that!” _ Brainstorm answered excitedly. Jetfire laughed at his enthusiasm and smiled to himself.

 

_ “I’ll have to bring it up with Optimus Prime or something, but expect me there in no time. Hang in there, yeah?” _ Brainstorm said, a vent of relief handing over him.

 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Jetfire reassured, looking to the scenic ocean.

 

_ “See you in the lab?” _

 

“See you in the lab.” 

  
  


* * *

 

Crankcase found himself talking with Reflector, a very boring situation he didn’t think he would ever have to experience. But, now that he wasn’t speaking with Long Haul, he had to endure this.

 

But just before he was going to walk away, Hook came along, looking quite bothered. Desperate to get away from this mech, he called out to his commander.

 

“Hook, hey. Something up?”

 

“Crankcase, hello. What are you two doing?” He asked, walking over to the two of them.

 

“Oh, we were just discussing how rude Soundwave was to me when we were- correction-  _ I _ was still on Cybertron. Y’know, when I was there, I-”

 

“Nothing much, Hook. What were you doing in the lab? Did you find out what happened with Bombshell and Vortex?” Crankcase questioned, skillfully dodging another conversation with Reflector, who dropped his hand like a deflating balloon.

 

“Ah, yes, about that. I feel like they should have informed their fellow teammates, but I’ll be the one doing that I suppose. It’s quite important actually.” Hook said, thinking to himself.

 

“Feel free to let the others know, but I’d like to speak to you, Crankcase.” Hood said, noticing that Reflector would be nothing short of a distraction.

 

“You got it Boss.” Crankcase chimed, gleefully walking with his commander away from the makeshift spy, who seemed even more deflated than before.

 

“What’s up?” Crankcase said nonchalantly, crossing his arms and lazily bending his hip in a comfortable position.

 

Hook vented out loud and scratched his helm in confusion, wondering how he should put this mess into something a normal mech could understand.

 

“Well, it began with the events that conspired last Earth night cycle.”

 

Hook fleshed out all the confusing details, and thank Primus that Crankcase wasn’t all confused by the end of it. However, this didn’t mean that there wasn’t room for doubt on his half.

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Crankcase berated, waving his arms up dismissively and shaking his helm in a similar manner.

 

“ _ Wait _ .”

 

“What is it?” The impatient Hook replied.

 

“He’s going to ‘revive’ Seaspray? As in, back to life? From the dead? Ripped from the Afterlife back to this very Earth? His spark being brought back-”

 

“Yes, Crankcase, all of that. I thought it was crazy, too. Despite this, their plan seems to be very solid. I commend them, of course, but my pride would not allow me to say that to them in person. I could never. Maybe after all of this is done, then I could… “ And Hook never finished his thought, because the mech he was speaking too seemed to not be paying attention to him anymore.

 

Crankcase, dimmed down optics, looked at him as if he wanted to die right then and there.

 

“Yes, well, that would be the most of what conspired in the last day or two. I know its a lot to take in, but, it is what it is. If you don’t mind, could you tell the rest of the team for me? I’m done trying to make sense of this myself.” Hook ended, venting to himself in exhaustion.

 

“Sure, and I’ll give them the five minute version, to save their sanity, thank you very much.” Crankcase retorted, giving him an annoyed expression that had a sprinkle of ‘I need to lie down and recharge thanks to you.”

 

“Yes, yes. Thank you for bearing with me. I tend to speak more than I should.” Hook said, never even realising until now that he had this horrible habit.

 

“I didn’t have a choice, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

Now was the perfect time. Every mech in O.B.A. knows about how the experiment went. Splendidly, apparently. Reflector stood guard at the front of a secure medic lab late at night, containing the mech that lay asleep after an extensive brain module surgery. Now, was his time to wake up and face his new reality. Now, began the real test.

 

~

 

His metal body felt cold and stiff, but he was able to move his servos quite easily. He heard the strain of the metal, as if it hasn’t been moved in days. He onlined his optics, and noticed that he was in a very dark room. It didn’t feel familiar, just misty. Stuffy, almost. He was able to sit up straight, and he felt a cry from his aching body, begging him to take it easy. But one look at his internal clocking system, and he did not want to rest any longer.

 

Seaspray had died, he remembered, but now he was… alive? For 2 days, his systems check relayed. Upon an examination in his memory log, the last thing he could remember was getting horribly injured, and the never ending pain he felt, and what followed afterward was a corroded memory file that he couldn’t acess. His spark felt very emotionally heavy for whatever reason, but that could be resolved later. Right now, he had to focus on where he was.

 

His optics adjusted to the dim light, only so that he could make out tiny details that soon grew to a greater focus. He was in some sort of medic lab, but not one he was familiar with. No, it wasn’t from the Calabi-Yau, or the lab that Jetfire has now. This one was different, with different technology. He felt very out of place, as if he shouldn’t be in here. Then, it hit him.

 

His visor flashed a warning red, and his helm began to pound insacionaly. He winced at the pain, and instantly felt like something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. He remembered that some of his appendages were severely injured before he died, such as his pedes and his arms. If he was treated for arm wounds, why would his helm be in pain like this? He couldn’t be safe here, no way. Even if that weren’t true, he was well enough to leave, it wasn’t like he was still missing appendages. Anymore, at least.

 

As he stood up, he peeled off wires attached to his body, and rotated his joints. The sound of the abused metal reverberated throughout the empty room, and little pop ups flashed the screens of the room. He was being monitored by his progress.

 

He heard distant chatter behind a closed door, and he flinched. This certainly did not feel like an Autobot facility, and those voices do not sound, in the slightest, familiar. Well, actually, they did. However, the thought soon followed up with instintaneous fear. That was Bombshell he was hearing.

 

_ Bombshell _ . He knew the name was important and played a key role in his death, maybe even his miraculous recovery as well. He was accompanied by Vortex that night. The night he died. Knowing that, he was he was going to get out of here quick. He had too.

 

Seaspray wasn't safe here anymore. Maybe they planned to experiment on him, or something more tormenting than that. Then, he suddenly remembered.

 

What they had done to him. Bombshell and Vortex, those Decepticons who found him in that forest and tortured him. The mechs who left him to die that cold night, alone. At least, that's all he could remember at the moment.

 

What he knew for sure was that he needed to leave. His spark was pounding loudly in his chest, as he found himself churning out from his vents quickly. _They carved and insignia on his helm whilst he was fully conscious._ _He lost both his pedes later that night due to laser gun wounds. They left him to die on his own, in the still of the night._

 

He attempted to calm himself, trying to think of happy things.  _ Jetfire _ . Yes, he needed to return to Jetfire. He wanted to meet him again, they must be worried sick about him. Gone for two days? What did Earth One think? That he had died? Well, he did, on second thought.

 

Whatever, he had other things to concern himself with first. He still heard the voices from outside, and he opted to use the other door. He peered out the window and noticed a mech standing next to the door. From what he could tell, he was supposed to be blocking the doorway, or keeping watch. Lucky for Seaspray, this guard seemed to be taking a heavy recharge. All he had to do was to bundle up the courage to open the door and walk out.

 

His life depended on this. He couldn't just let them take advantage of having an Autobot on their medical slab. He also needed to return to Earth One, tell them about what happened. The least they deserve is a tired Seaspray with an explanation and a vow to never leave by himself ever again.

 

He placed his servo on the door, and it clicked open softly.

 

~

 

He managed to get by the guard without disturbing him, which was a relief. But as he traversed the walls, he was able to deduce that he was dense in a cave, expertly crafted with confusing hallways and doors left and right. Whenever the O.B.A. had arrived, they went straight to work. Either they had plenty of time here on Earth, or they have strong members capable of doing this mass renovation in a short amount of time. The thought terrified him.

 

Seaspray’s pace quickened, his spark picked up speed, and he felt himself becoming disoriented. Lack of sleep, low energon, claustrophobia, whatever it was, it was taking a heavy affect on him. He was practically running now due to the anxiety, until he heard a shout.

 

“Hey!” A loud voice boomed from behind him.

 

“Where do you think your heading off to, Seaspray?”

 

Upon a quick glance, he could see that it was the guard from before, a clear Decepticon. But they knew his name?

 

Due to panic, Seaspray froze in place, his protoform shaking in its frame.

 

“Reflector, what’s going on?” He heard another voice say. His head pounded as he recognized the voice, belonging to one of the Decepticons that tortured him on the beach. Bombshell.  _ Frag!! _

 

He felt his heating system begin to churn out air quickly as he realized the danger he was in. He tired to move, but he felt paralyzed. He cringed at himself, and tried to get any movement at all, even if it was his fingers.  _ Anything, anything but this! _

 

“Uh, sir, it's just that, he-” Reflector began, pointing straight at Seaspray. He tensed instantly, and he felt his pede shuffle harshly on the floor. He gripped his servos tightly, and regained ability to start running.

 

“He  _ what _ ?” Bombshell angrily boomed. Seaspray felt a rush of adrenaline and he suddenly found himself lunging forward.

 

The frightened water hovercraft broke into a frantic run, hoping to reach the exit any time now. His spark felt so strained, as if he was exerting it to a point where it was practically breaking. His energy was draining quick, like never before. His head was pounding, and his vision was turning black. He shook his helm vigorously to shake the feeling off.

 

It felt so urgent, and he knew that he didn't want to die  _ again _ . He had gone through so much already, it would be horrible if he died now. He couldn't do that to the team, or Jetfire. He knew very well how he had reacted with Brainstorm, and he certainly didn't want to do this to him now.

 

Not when he had this second chance to make things right. He had hope that he'll make it out of this.

 

Reflector’s pedes were light and springy, as if his recharge really revitalized him. Seaspray on the opposite end was beginning to slow down, his joints aching to stop moving. But he couldn't stop yet.

 

Seaspray saw a door that looked like an exit, and dashed for it. That's when he heard the blast shots from a laser gun, and the noise rung in his audials. It sounded familiar, with it being so close. Something related to his death. 

 

He seemed to fail to remember what exactly happened, but quickly glossed over it.

 

He dismissed the thought and temporarily forgot about the pain surging through his body and in a quick motion of adrenaline, he lunged for the door and opened it swiftly.

 

“Seasp- ” Reflector began again, this time a desperate yelp.

 

Seaspray fell to the ground, the door slamming behind him. He was venting coursly, clearing his vents in the process. He was able to get a good measure of how harshly his spark was pounding, and this reminded him of the environment he was in before he died.

 

Before he further delphed into that, though, he had to get out of the proximity of this Decepticon base. He began running again, his pedes hitting the sand behind him. He saw a forest and concealed himself within the trees.

 

His breath shaky and his joints aching, he vented out in relief to have escaped the captivities of the O.B.A.

 

The dank smell of the trees, the refreshing green color, and the dirt ground reminded him of something familiar.

 

It was the same location. The same location to what? Oh, that’s right. 

 

The same location right before he died. The same forest he went through to look for materials for Jetfire. So he knew that much. That was a good start.

 

He humored the thought more and more, trying to reactivate his broken memory archive. The sun was falling, and the moon emerging, and Seaspray found himself looking at the stars, still hanging with the trees of the forest. He wondered if Jetfire was looking at them too.

 

As he walked the familiar path through the forest, past the trees and leaves, his memory hit him point blank in the helm. He seethed in pain, his helm an inner earthquake. He brought his servo to his head, and his recollection was returning all at once.

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. What he knew was that the O.B.A. had left him to die in the sand. For some peculiar reason, he remembered Smokescreen being there with him. He vividly remembered his voice, but his memory archive was failing him miserably. They were blacked out and scratched, so there was no hope in revitalizing those.

 

One thing did contradict the other. He died of a gunshot wound to the helm, but the O.B.A. had left him alone to sit out the rest of the night. The night that he didn’t see the day break later on. That made no remote sense. There was no bomb that could have been set off at a later duration. No secret assassin that came and killed him on their behalf.

 

Granted, his memory files  _ are _ very corrupted. Maybe this is one of the mix ups that happened. He was shot in the helm at point blank, so when the O.B.A. revived him, they had to fix his cerebral circuits. Again, another plausible explanation. Whatever it was, he had to figure out what he was going to tell the team.

 

And, he also had to figure out what in the Pit this painstaking headache was. This was far from normal, there is no way this is a side effect of lack of recharging. This had to be something serious, maybe the O.B.A. didn’t fix him right. He could deal with it, sure, but that required mounds of effort. Having just been revitalized from the dead, his appreciation for life grew expansively, so this effort seemed miniscule for him. From an outsider's perspective, this seemed to be a major problem.

 

Seaspray hoped that this would be nothing troublesome; however, soon, it would be nothing but trouble.

  
  


* * *

 

He ended the transmission with Brainstorm just some time ago, and now he was sitting on the sand peacefully. Jetfire felt a little more at peace now, he just needed to talk to someone he trusts. But he couldn't help but mourn regardless.

 

Was it strange that he was  _ still _ thinking about this? Was he too hung up on the fact that he'd never see that beautiful mech ever again?

 

He vented, finding that the ocean would never be as pretty to look at as that sea boy. The sea would never be as pure as he was. Never as curious or skittish as the young mech once was.

 

He looked out to the forest, where he disappeared. How strange that he managed to get so lost. Surely he would have been careful, or at least tried to be. And, quite frankly, Seaspray wasn't fragging stupid. So how did he get caught up like that, alone to die at the gun of a    
Decepticon?

 

Jetfire got up and walked into the forest. He figured that he would try to find out why Seaspray got so lost and then… disappeared like that. There must be some very put out reason that he didn’t return that night. Something amiss, maybe?

 

Not much time in, he decided that this wasn't the best course of action. It was dark, and he had a lab to run. He was letting his emotions get the best of him, he should just try to let this go. Sure, his death didn’t make much sense, but nor did any of Earth to him. He just had to learn this hard lesson and move on, as easy as it sounds. Of course, it wouldn’t go down that smooth, but that would be just the jist of it.

 

As he made the mental decision, he heard a shuffling in the trees, and pulled out his gun by instinct. Upon turning up the sensitivity in his audials, he could make out the sound of a mech walking through the bushes. A slow moving mech. Not a heavy hunk of metal, a very light one actually, which caused Jetfire to take a step closer. He pinged Prowl, who answered him quickly.

 

_ “Is there something you need?” _

 

“Sounds like a mech here in the forest, I might need some reinforcements.” He replied, shutting off the transmission and continued to the noise.

 

He heard a soft grunt, and then the slow walking turned into a slightly quicker trot. The mech must have-

 

“Jet-!!” Seaspray began, but his vocalizer glitched out towards the end. He grasped his vocalizer in desperation, wanting to very badly say his name again. He clutched in agony, his servos trembling in realization. He stood still of the thought of never being able to use his vocalizer, granted, he had been dormant for an elongated period. Regardless, he had to get this issue fixed, or else he wouldn’t be the same.

 

“Sea-?” Jetfire resetted his optics and stared at the mech, whose colors shone brightly against the moon light. That was undoubtedly him.

 

“Seaspray! Oh, my Primus, you’re…”

 

Alive. He was alive. Alive and right in front of him.

 

He rushed over and held his mech tightly, his servos running themselves over his tempered metal, never letting go. He was definitely real, and most certainly alive. He lifted his chin, and saw the insignia that printed itself on Seaspray. He ran his finger along it, and tears began forming around his optics. It was ruined and rough, and Seaspray said nothing. Shame, he was feeling shame.

 

“Primus, I'm so sorry. Seaspray, I'm so sorry.” Jetfire pleaded, finding it difficult to look him in the optics. He was a tornado of emotions, each pulling at his spark every second he held him in his strong embrace.

 

“I did this to you, didn't I? It was my fault, I let them do this to you.” He said as they both found themselves on the cold ground now, basking in each other's embrace. Jetfire had confessions to unload on this mech, but before he could cry any longer, Seaspray shifted slightly in his embrace.

 

Seaspray reached out and held his servos, and listened to him, shaking his head in the process. He tried to convey disagreement, but he lacked the voice to do so.

 

“I've been such a  _ horrible _ -”

 

“ _ kzz-kttz _ ” Seaspray managed to pop out of his vocalizer, pointing toward where the base would be.

 

“Oh, yes, your right. Let's get you to the lab. We can share condolences later.” Jetfire rushed out of his vocalizer as he lifted himself up before helping the beaten mech before him. They wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders and began the mildly short walk through the forest back to the base.

 

Now that he was allotted time to think and look, Seaspray’s plating practically looked brand new, as if he never been abandoned in the forest for two days in the first place. Come to think of it, Jetfire didn’t even second guess the reason why Seaspray was here anyway. In addition to his many doubts, Seaspray had encountered Decepticons and never died? Not even hurt? The only thing that was scraped was his helm, but other than that, he looked normal. That contradicted what Smokescreen said entirely. Smokescreen said he had  _ died. _ And here he was, looking stunning in the moonlight.

 

All the while, Seaspray was trying to get his vocalizer to work again. He was beyond tired and in desperate need of recharge, but he had to begin speaking again. Though he didn’t remember much as of now, he did know the important things he needed to relay to the team later. One: The O.B.A. has graced the Earth with highly advanced technology, that of which revives dead mechs. And two: The O.B.A. experimented on him. He can’t remember now, but he knew that his body was aching for a reason, and his helm wouldn’t be pounding like this if this hadn’t been true. The one thing he was certain about was that he traveled the forest, meet Decepticons and endured hours of torture, and died of a gunshot to the helm. He couldn’t quite make sense of this yet, but there had to be one explanation for this. It had to have been-

 

“I’m sorry to bother you about this Seaspray, but Smokescreen told us that you had-”

 

Before Jetfire could inquire more, he got an incoming transmission from Prowl.

 

_ “Is that the mech that you were talking about? You were able to apprehend him?” _

 

“Prowl, you need to get a closer look at who this mech is.” Jetfire said to him as he adjusted Seaspray in his grip.

 

_ “What do you mean? I can see just fine-” _

 

“Seaspray?” Prowl said aloud as he rushed through the brush to get a better look at the mech.

 

“Jetfire, how did you manage to… ?” The commander questioned, examining the mech with an insignia carved into his helm. Seaspray didn’t even look at him, his exhaustion getting the best of him.

 

“I found, well,  _ he _ found me in the forest.” He replied, looking at Prowl. 

 

He gave him a confused expression, as if he was doubting that. Jetfire shrugged at him. They were both thinking the same thing. What the Pit was Smokescreen talking about? It was a blatant lie, there was no getting around that. But why? Now was not the time to discuss it, not in front of Seaspray, at least.

 

“Can we focus on getting him to the lab first, before all the questioning? I want him to get rest. He really needs it.” Jetfire said, watching the glow of his optics dim over time. Seaspray gave him a sympathetic expression.

 

“Of course, yes. Yes… “ Prowl said, clearing his vocalizer and gathering his thoughts. Seaspray was dead… as confirmed by Smokescreen. He had to have been lying, if Seaspray was right here, before him. And he was, so that meant that Smokescreen  _ was _ lying. An easy train of thought, but not so easy to understand.

 

“I’ll alert the others via radio transmissions.” Prowl said, finally able to get a clear understanding of what was going on. Well, semi-clear understanding. *cough* An understanding of what he  _ didn’t _ understand, rather.

 

“Right, thank you.” Jetfire said, looking over to Seaspray. He was looking dead tired, so Jetfire tried to pick up the pace.

 

~

 

Prowl assisted Jetfire with placing Seaspray on the slab and hooking him up to the cables and wires. His vitality feed was fed to the server and visual display so that Jetfire could monitor his progress accordingly.

 

The others soon poured into the room to gawk at the sight before them, Seaspray. Jetfire grasped his servo in his, and gave a reassuring squeeze. Seaspray was able to return the gesture before drifting off into recharge, allowing Jetfire to conceal his smile of relief.

 

The team was extremely flabbergasted to see the mech alive and well on a medical slab, recharging of all things, but the mech who arrived late to the party was none other than Smokescreen, who wore the most shocked expression.

 

With some whispered inquiries, Smokescreen said he had to excuse himself before briskly leaving the lab, followed by the stares of the others who weren’t quite as confused as he was at that point. He clearly needed a long walk on the beach to at least attempt to understand the situation.

 

He  _ himself _ had killed Seaspray with a sure fire hit, point blank,  _ in the helm. _ How in the name of Pit was he still alive and repaired?

 

Jetfire’s servo was shaky as the reality of the whole situation sank in. Seaspray was alive, thank Primus, but Smokescreen was hiding something. Soon enough, the team would find out.


	13. Update

Hey guys, just an update, i would like to let you know that i've been caught up in school work as of recent, so i just need about 2 more weeks until i can get back into a more frequent schedule. That's when school ends for me, and I'll have more time to actually finish chapters.

Also, i really appreciate those who have stuck around until this point, i never thought i would've gained such an audiance. You guys really motavate me, and i am extremly thankful for you. Sorry for the horrible posting schedule, i will fix this soon.

Hopefully, i'll see you in the next chapter!


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